Adverse Side Effects
by GraeLiars
Summary: When a key ingredient in his suppressant potion becomes unavailable, grumpy potions Professor Scorpius Malfoy has to cope with his Veela attributes coming to the surface. Which, theoretically, shouldn't be a big deal. Professor Rose Weasley, it would appear, is going to blow that theory out of the water. Aka - TROPE STEW. Scorose fluff and (eventual) smut. Non-canon compliant
1. Chapter 1

_Hey folks!_

 _This story should really be subtitled: HAVE ALL OF THE TROPES!_

 _Veela trope? Got it. Soul Mates trope? Sure. Hogwarts Professors trope? Ding ding ding! Haters to Lovers kink? I got you bro! Desk sex? Coming right up! (not right now, but eventually you bunch of hornbags)._

 _Now, important notes: I've taken a lot of liberties with the Veela mythology and have basically Frankenstein-ed it into my own interpretation. I hope no one finds it offensive. If it's not your thing I have no problems with that. Just walk away now_

 _Also, this is probably not how portkeys work. But I consulted Pottermore and couldn't find anything to say they_ couldn't _work like this so I just took some creative license there too. Please don't hate on me too much if I've really screwed it up._

 _This is not a serious piece and I don't envisage it will be super long. I just felt like writing some mindless fluff with a good dose of smut mixed in. You know, the usual. Also, like always, my world building is pretty damn shit. I'm just here for the banter. I really struggled to come up with a title, so I miiiiiiight change it if I think of something better. I am also open to suggestions :)_

 _Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. And if you could leave me a lil review I'll be eternally grateful._

* * *

 **Chapter One: (Involuntarily) Going Cold Turkey**

"Charlie Butterworth, I swear to Merlin if you add anymore powdered porcupine quills to that potion I will fetch an _unpowdered_ porcupine quill from the storeroom and lodge it between your brows!"

Scorpius watched as the fifth year Gryffindor student sheepishly lowered the vial holding the offending ingredient to his bench to avoid becoming the Potions Professor's personal dartboard. This was potentially Scorpius' most hated class – fifth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws first thing on a Monday morning. One half were pretentious nerds, the other half were brazen halfwits, all of them were impulsive and careless fifteen year olds. It was enough to give him a headache. The classroom was a cesspit for teenage hormones, with none of them having figured out an appropriate way of dealing with having a tangible attraction to the opposite sex (or same sex, for that matter). Where other teachers might be able to brush off some of the juvenile behaviour, Scorpius took it very seriously. Being Potions Master, the children in his care had access to a plethora of dangerous ingredients and implements, and with their underdeveloped little brains, they seemed to think the best way to woo their beloved was to lob them at said beloved's head.

He had given out more detentions for dangerous behaviour masquerading as flirting than anything else this year. It was infuriating and unhealthy.

Teenagers were a constant thorn in his side. There were days he seriously questioned why the hell he'd taken up the role as Potions Master when Longbottom approached him about it two years ago.

Then he remembered the comfortable living quarters, the constant access to difficult-to-acquire potions ingredients, and the look of equal parts fear and astonishment first years got in their eyes when they first walked into his dungeon. That made it worth it sometimes.

Scorpius walked through the darkly lit classroom assessing the students' work. Unsurprisingly most of the successful potions appeared to belong to the Ravenclaw students. He was just hoping the Gryffindors managed not to blast off their eyebrows. He was not blind to how a great deal of the female students – and a number of the males – watched him as he passed with something other than the fear he was comfortable with. He liked being feared. Being respected came in at a close second. Desired, however, was incredibly unsettling. He understood it – at 27 years old he was by far one of the youngest professors at Hogwarts, and had inherited a balanced mixture of his mother and father's genes that he could objectively acknowledge made him physically appealing.

 _(There was also the fact that he was, biologically speaking, designed to be alluring. The potions he'd been taking since he hit puberty only did so much to dull the telltale signs of his true origins)_

With all of this in mind, he made a conscious effort to be kind to basically no one. Not the students who performed well. Not his favourite students from his beloved Slytherin. Not even the other staff. He did as much as was required to earn their respect, but he felt absolutely no compulsion to earn anyone's affections, platonic or otherwise. So when two giggling female students raised their hands and asked for him to assess their potion, rather than stepping close, he simply called across the room in an as unaffected tone as he could manage that he knew they'd added too much powdered moonstone at the beginning of the lessons and would need to restart. He watched with delight as the light in their eyes dulled. He was quite sure he heard one of them call him an asshole. Wonderful.

There was a zapping sound in the corner of his classroom that caused him to let out a groan that was louder than he was proud of. There'd only be one person at this school – hell, in all of England – that would have the absolute audacity to travel into his classroom without warning on a Monday morning. Scorpius turned slowly to find Rose Weasley standing next to his workbench, eyes wild, red hair whipping around her face madly, and purple robes just settling to place around her. Her expression was that of thunder, and the glare painting her face told him he was about to be lectured.

He would be lying if he said he didn't find the prospect… _entertaining_.

"Professor Malfoy," she called in a booming tone that cut through the now silent room, "A word?"

The students dissolved into a chorus of tattering and whispered laughter, their potions forgotten (and likely ruined) in favour of watching the battle about to unfold. Everyone knew Rose had a temper. They also knew it only seemed to appear when Scorpius was around. They'd been doing this since they were eleven, and it astounded him that antagonizing Rose was one of the only past-times he had retained from his youth that he found just as enjoyable today as he did as a pre-pubescent teenager. Even now, as two Hogwarts Professors in their mid-twenties, they could barely go a week without going toe to toe.

And if there just so happened to be days he sought her out to start a fight on particularly boring days, then so be it. Perhaps a comfortable living space, access to potion ingredients and the wide-eyed wonder of first years were not the _only_ things that made this job so appealing.

"Professor Weasley," Scorpius kept his tone cool and body language at ease, a perfect offset to the way her entire body seemed to thrum with anger, "I could have sworn I destroyed that faulty portkey of yours that _accidentally_ transported you to my classroom rather than your own."

"Appears it's still playing up," she quirked an eyebrow at him, "Perhaps your charms work is a little…unpracticed."

Rose outscored him on their Charms N.E.W.T. and seemed hellbent on lording it over him until one of them died. He was quite sure there were a group of Gryffindor boys behind him that said someone should send for Madam Pomfrey, and that he was requiring medical attention _for that burn._

"I'm sure that's the only logical answer," he responded, fighting a smile, "After all, I know you wouldn't have established another portkey, especially after Headmaster Longbottom so adamantly agreed it was not appropriate for you to be dropping into my lessons unannounced and uninvited."

A group of girls seated in the section of classroom between Scorpius and Rose shook with silent laughter. Rose's only reaction was to give a small grunt and nod her head in the direction of the storeroom at the front of the classroom, a regular arena for their showdowns.

"If you'll excuse me for just a moment class," Scorpius called as he headed towards where Rose was marching. The second he closed the storeroom door he could hear the class erupt in hoots and whistles.

He really could murder them sometimes.

Thoughts of murder were disrupted by the angry red head who pointed her finger into his chest.

" _What. The fuck. Is your problem?_ "

"Currently? A five-foot-four redhead who insists on interrupting my lessons; I'd be eternally grateful if you could convince her to piss off."

Rose, in a move so practiced and expected he was barely angered, completely ignored him. "Why the hell does Eli Wolfenberg have detention this weekend?"

Ah yes, the Wolfenberg boy. He was expecting retaliation. He was also expecting to at least make it to dinner before he was accosted by her. She was losing her patience in her old age.

"Because he acted out in class," Scorpius chose to antagonise her further, you know, just for his own personal enjoyment, "I thought being a teacher here for the past two years you would understand that by now."

"He said you gave him detention for getting an answer wrong!" she exclaimed in a whispered yell, "Since when do kids get detention _on a Saturday_ for getting an answer wrong?! That's part of learning!"

"Because it was a waste of my time," he really should have at least attempted to keep the shit-eating grin off his face, "If he insists on wasting my time during the week, I'll waste his time on the weekend."

"You're only doing this because of the game!" Rose accused, "Admit it!"

He absolutely was. With Wolfenberg out of the Quidditch match on Saturday, Gryffindor would have to go without their number one seeker in their match against Ravenclaw. And, should Gryffindor lose, it would put Slytherin in such a position that they basically couldn't lose the Quidditch Cup. So while Scorpius usually would have given Wolfenberg a pass for his one, incredibly idiotic comment (that he was sure Wolfenberg was providing as a joke because he hadn't bothered to do the prescribed reading) he had decided a harsher punishment was justified.

However, he was smart enough to know that telling Rose that would get him a broken nose. And he really didn't feel like explaining his injuries to Madam Pomfrey. Again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Scorpius lied, "I will punish my students as I see fit Weasley; if you have a problem with that I suggest you take it up with the Headmaster."

"I think I will!"

"I'm sure he'll be impressed with that," Scorpius smirked at her, sarcasm coating his tone, "I'm sure there is absolutely nothing of greater importance on his agenda than one student missing one game of Quidditch. He'll be all-ears, for sure."

Rose scowled at him and he could see she was conceding he was right - it probably caused her physical pain to realize that. It would probably kill her if she tried to admit it to him aloud. He so enjoyed seeing her squirm.

Rose's voice took on a darker quality as she scowled at him.

"If your precious house can only win the Quidditch Cup by using dirty tactics to take out a better team then they don't deserve the win."

Oh sweet, naïve Rose. She appeared to think he'd take the high ground. It was adorable. Scorpius didn't believe in 'going high' when someone 'went low'. As far as Scorpius was concerned, he was a champion limbo-player in a submarine – people could not conceive how low he was willing to sink to win a petty argument. And he pulled it off with a grace others envied.

He pasted on a smile and replied in a gravely whisper, "And if your team can't win without one player, then they don't deserve it either."

Rose almost shook with frustration. He had her and she knew it. She seemed to be stewing over what she was going to throw at him next, and Scorpius came to the startling realization that she may resort to literally throwing things at him. He didn't fancy copping frogs legs in his eyes, so worked on wrapping it all up as quickly as possible.

( _He always felt a low level of unease when he was in a confined space with Rose Weasley. It had been like this since they were children – when left in a room together something seemed charged. Like they were moments away from causing grievous bodily harm, or something else equally or more terrifying. Scorpius' survival instincts kicked in and urged him to flee_ )

"Now, you might not have to teach students during the day up in your tower," he waved in the general direction of the Astronomy Tower she called home, "But I have a class to attend to. Are we done here?"

It was a rhetorical question but he enjoyed asking it anyway, just to watch her squirm further. It was only now, encased in a tense silence, that he noticed how close they'd gotten. She was barely a foot away from him, trying to be as imposing as possible despite being almost a foot shorter than him. Maybe it wasn't about her appearing threatening, he thought absently, maybe it was about showing him that he _wasn't._ He could begrudgingly concede that he admired her ferocity. Gryffindor to the core was Miss. Weasley

He needed to flee. Gracefully. As soon as possible.

Scorpius watched her let out a heavy breath and roll her shoulders, a tic of hers he'd picked up on years ago. It was her mental reset; she did it when she needed to gain her composure. It worried him sometimes, all these little things he knew about her. But if there was one muggle saying that he could get around it was ' _know thy enemy'_. He had a mental encyclopedia on Rose for the sole purpose of getting the upper hand in their arguments. It had worked for him so far; he saw no reason to change his ways.

"I guess we are," Rose finally responded, mildly calmer than before. She took a step back from him, breaking them out of their little intimately hostile bubble, "I'll let you get back to scarring children for life."

She probably meant it as an insult. Foolish, she should really know him well enough by now to know he took it as a compliment.

"Oh, and do be careful, Professor," Rose murmured as she reached towards a jar at the back of the shelf beside them. It was only now, her hand reaching towards it, that Scorpius realized it was a little bit different to the rest.

Another bloody portkey. And in his own potions storeroom. The woman had them everywhere.

He'd be impressed if it wasn't so infuriating.

"I hear there are faulty portkeys all over the place," her eyes took on a challenging glint, "I'd hate for you to go to slip on your robes and be suddenly thrust to the Great Lake."

She was mad.

"See you at dinner," she gave him a sickly sweet smile that didn't reach her eyes before clutching the little purple jar and disappearing right before him.

The woman was a firecracker. A workplace hazard. A permanent pain in his ass.

And this place would be boring as hell without her.

When he rejoined the class, Charlie Butterwoth appeared to be acting out what Scorpius assumed was supposed to some kind of sexual activity with a broomstick and moaned _'Professor Weasley! What will the children think?'_ to a chorus of laughing school children.

Scorpius gave him detention cleaning the Owlery until the end of the year.

* * *

Scorpius had the afternoon free, and used the time to do a little personal potion making. As he did every month, he took out an assortment of hard to come by ingredients needed to keep the family curse at bay for the next four weeks. He really should have taken it two days ago; as it were he could feel the prickling at his edges, like flames burning just out of reach were singeing his outline. The Monster was awakening. Time to put it back to sleep.

Some people would think it weird, he supposed, his perception of this part of himself as a curse; as something evil he needed to contain. Charm, charisma, beauty, desire – these hardly seemed like the traits of villainous creature one would want to harness.

He was willing to bet no one that thought like that had firsthand experience being a fucking Veela. It was a lot more difficult than anyone acknowledged.

Veelas were old world magic, creatures that made appearances in the oldest of magical tomes, and yet there was much about them that was completely unknown, even today. The Malfoy Library did have a significant number of unpublished resources on the matter, given that veelas had a habit of popping up in their family tree every few generations, but even that was limited. All anyone seemed to know was that they were beautiful and alluring, that their dance could make even the most astute of souls lose their composure, and when they were pissed they turned into bird-like creatures that had a tendency to shoot flames out of their hands. It was widely recorded that veelas were only female. Any male veela would not only be considered rare, but especially miraculous.

The prospect of people finding out he was a magical miracle did not bring Scorpius comfort. All it meant was that there was even less information in the world to educate him about his disease.

From what almost 15 years of research told him, there were notable anomalies between males and females of the species. The first was the appearance of the veela itself - in the experience of all the Malfoy men who had kept records of being afflicted over the years, they all reported that their Veela 'awoke' with puberty, rather than females who showed signs of being veela at birth. The medium used to lure in people also differed – females danced, males sung. The telling physical attributes were the same, as was the general impact of their behaviour on others. If these were the only characteristics he had to maneuver, then maybe Scorpius wouldn't detest it so much. He could deal with being, technically speaking, part bird-person, having particularly shiny hair, and the amorous attentions from women and occasionally men. However, being veela – specifically, a _male_ veela, it would appear – plagued him with a particular flaw he simply couldn't deal with.

Scorpius Malfoy had a soul mate.

Or, more appropriately, his Veela did. And the Monster was fucking adamant to find it.

A male Veela would not be restful until they found their One True Mate, no matter how inconvenient it made their life. Veelas would search and pine for their beloved, and would feel fundamentally fractured until they were united with the person they were supposed to spend the rest of their life with. The veela would become a niggling feeling inside the person's skull, a voice in their head and a tug on their heart that drove their actions without them consciously realizing it. Someone could spend their whole life following the pull of their Veela in the direction of the person they felt was their One True Mate with absolutely no say in the matter.

It was this that Scorpius hated - he had a fucking bird brain inside him that would put all his plans on hold just so to find some woman to bone for the rest of his life. Even as a child, Scorpius knew he valued his independence above nearly everything else – the idea that he was doomed to blindly stumble across the planet in search of a woman so the bird in his head would settle was unbearable.

Thanks the heavens for modern potion making.

As soon as he hit puberty and woke up _with fucking wings_ (thank the heavens it was during break and he was at home), his father had taught him how to brew a suppressant potion, the recipe for which had been passed down through generations of the Malfoy family. It had been his first real step towards developing a keen interest and skill in the area. He excelled quickly, and soon making a suppressant potion in the dungeons after hours was nothing out of the ordinary. It kept his Veela at bay in basically every sense – he didn't lure anyone to him with his looks, his singing didn't turn people mad, he couldn't shoot flames out of his hands, he didn't transform into a bird-man hybrid, and he felt absolutely no compulsion to pursue his mate. The only thing he seemed to eternally carry with him was the shiny white gold hair he kept bundled in a bun atop his head and being generally considered attractive to most people. It let him lead a relatively normal life. It was his most favourite potion in the entire world and making it came as naturally to him as breathing.

That's where he found himself this Monday afternoon – locked away in his potions dungeon mixing up his monthly elixir from the supplies recently dropped off by his owl. Scorpius was instantly suspicious when he picked up the package from his desk. It looked and felt considerably smaller than usual. He bit down the wave of panic trying to elevate itself from the pit of his stomach up his throat and unwrapped the items. He had ordered eleven ingredients. He received ten. Of all the items, the rarest was missing – his Southern Blue Monkshood flower. A cousin of the infamous Wolfsbane flower, it was the key ingredient that suppressed his inner demons. Without it, the potion was utterly useless. And he didn't have any.

Sweet. Holy. Fuck.

Scorpius scrambled for the parcel and read the note left by the supplier, hoping to get an explanation. It read:

 _Dear Prof. S. Malfoy,_

 _We regret to inform you we were unable to completely fulfill your order at this time. Due to a worldwide shortage in Southern Blue Monkshood, we have been unable to supply you with the requested amount. We will supply these ingredients when they next become available. Should you wish to be refunded for this purchase and seek other suppliers, please advise and we will arrange reimbursement of funds owed._

 _Happy Brewing._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Foxtrot Potion Supplies_

Lucky his last dose of suppressant was still in his system, for had it not been Scorpius was sure he would have gone full veela and started shooting fireballs. Because he was angry. He was _fucking livid_.

A worldwide shortage. What the hell was he supposed to do?! Foxtrot Potions were the best of the best – if they couldn't get it, no one could. Without the Monkshood the potion was useless.

Which meant it wouldn't work.

Which meant he couldn't suppress the curse.

Which meant, for the first time since he was thirteen, he was going to be a full-blooded, fully awake Veela.

Dear God he was going to faint.

Scorpius looked at the pathetic two twigs on his workbench, leftovers from his last order. He needed at least four to make a proper batch and here he was, faced with half the requirement. He had no idea what the outcome would be if he mixed up a half-batch. Would it only last two weeks instead of four? Would it last as long but not suppress all his ailments? Would it make him explode? Merlin any of those options seemed equally as likely.

(Ok, maybe not the exploding option, but one could never be sure)

Desperate, he flooed his father. Draco Malfoy may not be veela (one of the lucky generations that didn't get hit with the full-blooded curse and simply inherited the blond hair and pale skin from their ancestors), but he had taught him basically everything he knew about the concoction. Surely if anyone had an idea how to deal with this it was Draco.

"Do you have any idea what might happen?" Scorpius asked, completely failing to keep the panic from his voice.

"No," his father answered, face furrowed in concern, "I can't remember reading about anyone having to take a half dose before."

"Me neither," Scorpius conceded and put all his energy into preventing himself from hyperventilating, "I can't risk not taking it. I can't…I don't know… _turn_ in the middle of Hogwarts."

"You'll not suddenly turn into some monster, Scorpius," his father chastised him in a tone Scorpius found to be incredibly too lighthearted for what they were dealing with, "You'll just…go shiny."

"Shiny?" Scorpius deadpanned, "I'm going to _go_ _shiny_ surrounded by pubescent teenagers. That's not my idea of fun. It's a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"You're being dramatic," Draco chided and Scorpius contemplated asking him where he thought he got it from because his mother certainly wasn't the one who threw a tantrum when she found her first grey hair like _someone else_ did, "Veelas teach at Beauxbatons all the time. Women won't start throwing themselves at you desperately. Just don't serenade people in class and you should be fine."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Well damn, I was planning to sing the students' instructions tomorrow. Guess I'll have to rework my lesson plans."

The coal-constructed face of his father raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Scorpius couldn't help it; he got snappy when he was stressed. This was not exactly the supportive conversation he had been hoping to have.

"I'll send some owls, see if we can find out how long this shortage is going to last so we can make a plan," his father sounded extremely rational and Scorpius felt incredibly envious, "In the meantime, make the potion at half potency. Worst case it does nothing, best case you get a reprieve for a fortnight."

Scorpius agreed with his father and said his goodbyes. He felt better having spoken with someone as levelheaded as Draco – it helped having someone capable of rational thought when he was losing his mind, even if his father poked fun at him a bit. He grudgingly made up the potion with the limited supplies he had. It still had the same consistency and smelled the same, which were both positive signs. Scorpius downed the familiar elixir and sent a silent prayer to any benevolent heavenly body that the shortage didn't last long. As calm as his father had been, Scorpius didn't want to risk ' _going shiny'_ in front of his students, and he certainly didn't want to start subconsciously seeking out his mate. He had more important shit to do than go wildly searching for some woman. He was just fine being alone, no matter what his silly little bird brain tried to say otherwise.

In an attempt to calm himself down, Scorpius reached into his robe pocket to play with the lucky galleon he kept in there to distract him in times of stress. As soon as his fingers found the coin he felt a tugging at his innards as the ground fell out from beneath him and the sky swam in a wave of abnormal colours. His gut tightened and he felt the almost overwhelming urge to vomit as the entire world spun and contorted around him. With a sudden rush of air, Scorpius found himself falling out of the sky and dropped into the centre of the Great Lake.

Rose's fucking portkey. That woman would be the death of him.

* * *

 _Chapter one done and dusted. I'm feeling pretty inspired at the moment so I will hopefully have the next chapter written and uploaded somewhat shortly.  
All my love! xo_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey folks._

 _I've got another trope to add - Amortentia brewing! A_ _re you rolling your eyes yet? Yeah, look, I find it a bit cliche but I thought it was relevant to the story. Hope it's not too gag-worthy. The situation with the two students is in direct reference to a post by the user propercy on tumblr who wrote about a similar situation with Lily and James. I don't have the link for it sorry, because I found it on Pinterest. But full credit to Propercy for the situation making Amortentia because I thought it was hella cute._

 _Massive, massive, massive, huuuuuuuge shout out to everyone who reviewed and favourited/followed! You guys keep my spirits up and my fingers typing. I have nothing but love for all of you. My aim is to make the chapters of this fic a bit shorter than my standard so i can get the story finished and updated with more regularity than usual. However, I have no idea how long this thing is gunna be (I initially envisaged like 5 chapters. Hahahahahahahahahaha i crack myself up), so we'll wait and see. Also, confession time: my favourite part of writing (and reading) fanfiction is the banter. And a lot of time i will steamroll through the background, plot-building stuff just to get to the fun conversations. If that bothers you I'm sorry, but it's honestly just the way I like to write because I love reading dialogue. Hope that doesn't make things too confusing or annoying. Let me know if it does._

 _Disclaimer: same as before. Enjoy my beautiful people._

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Adventures of a Night Owl**

When Scorpius woke up the next morning he did what any self-respecting, regular twenty-seven year old did – he checked himself for wings.

Patting his shoulders, the space beside him in bed, and then getting a quick visual in the mirror in his bathroom, Scorpius was happy to confirm that he had not sprouted additional feathered appendages overnight. The potion, it would appear, had worked. Thank Merlin and all that are merciful.

He studied himself in the large, ornate silver framed-mirror (it was not standard issue for teacher's quarters. He brought several items from home with him when he took the position at Hogwarts because he was not some peasant and refused to live as one with the stock-standard items they filled these rooms with). His skin looked as it always did – just this side of translucent, the palest shade a human could look without being dead. And, most notably of all, not 'shiny'. Not yet anyway. There was nothing about his skin that said 'biological anomaly' and for that he was grateful beyond words.

Scorpius pulled his white gold hair out of it's loose ponytail to run his fingers through it. It seemed the same as it did yesterday – it still hung past his shoulders when left to it's own defences, still straight as an arrow and the same shade as his father's. Or was it brighter? Was it shinier? Did it shine like moonlight? Heavens he couldn't tell. Maybe it was a _tad_ shinier than usual, but if he himself couldn't tell then he was sure the students wouldn't be able to either.

"This is fine," he said aloud to himself as he pulled his hair up into it's standard bun, "The potion has clearly worked. Everything will be fine. This is fine."

By some absolute miracle, it appeared Scorpius Malfoy was finally being cut some slack. Thank Merlin. He just might make it out of this ordeal alive.

* * *

He took it back.

Every prayer he said to the creators, he repealed them all. Because something was definitely not quite right.

The first suspicion he had that perhaps things were not all as well as he had originally thought was during his sixth year lessons that afternoon. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, it was possibly his favourite class. Or at least his least hated. It was an interesting friendship dynamic, the Slytherin-Hufflepuff buddies. Scorpius always considered it one of the most dangerous. A Hufflepuff, who was fiercely loyal and adamant about seeing the good in everyone, matched with a Slytherin with a keenly ambitious drive and intense cunning – there was very little the two of them couldn't achieve. The mischief and mayhem they could cause was immeasurable.

Yes, Scorpius quite liked his Syltherin-Hufflepuff group. They all had so much potential.

Today's class was always going to be an interesting one – they were brewing the infamous Amortentia potion. Wisely, most of his students hadn't made any crude jokes or lewd suggestions within his earshot just yet but he was sure some idiot would attempt to sneak some out to spike someone's pumpkin juice. And yes, he could acknowledge that it was almost certainly destined to be a Slytherin.

He had been as cutting as he could be, reminded everyone that anyone who dared trying to forcing someone to drink it would be sentenced to detention with him in the Forbidden Forest and took great delight in the look of horror that passed over their faces. He might have been unpleasant in class, but he was a straight up asshole in detention. If he had to stay back late because some students were stupid enough to break the rules then he was _entitled_ to be a complete asshat. He would be lying if he said he didn't consider it a perk of the job.

Scorpius didn't really understand who thought getting a bunch of sixth years to brew the most powerful love potion was a good idea. Probably Albus Dumbledore. That seemed like "Dumbledore Logic" at it's worst: _Hmmmmm look at all these hormone-riddled teenagers. What a rowdy bunch. You know what they should learn how to make? The world's most powerful love potion. It has so many real-world applications. I can't foresee this going badly at all._

And despite the legend being dead for over a quarter century now, no one had thought to change the curriculum and have it removed. Scorpius seriously questioned the mental capabilities of most people at this school at least once daily.

He decided not to walk through the classroom as he usually would – there were too many times his back would be turned to people which presented too many opportunities for someone to do something catastrophically stupid. Even this, his least awful class, was prone to bouts of immeasurable dumbassery from time to time. So instead he stayed fixed at his own station and swept his gaze over the class periodically. He had decided today would be one of the days that he also brewed the assigned concoction for no other reason than he hadn't made it in quite some time (because powerful love potions that manipulated people into loving you weren't exactly included in his day-to-day potions _)_ and it was always good to ensure he kept his skills up to par.

To no one's surprise, he brewed it perfectly. He followed the recipe without fail, the consistency and colour was textbook, and the smoke coming off it was exactly as it should be. Which is why, when it malfunctioned, Scorpius knew immediately that it wasn't the potion that was at fault, it was his body. The issue was, thankfully, rather simple: he could smell six distinct scents instead of the customary three.

As he inhaled the smoke coming off his potion with practiced restrain, he immediately identified the same three smells he'd identified since he first made it as a sixth year himself – fresh parchment, night air after rain, and roses. These were scents he was familiar with and understood. Fresh parchment was attractive because he was literary minded and desired someone who was similarly inclined to enjoy ready and writing. Night air after rain was the best time to go flying, an activity that he loved like no other. And roses because…well they just smelt nice.

The new three smells were foreign, and completely unwelcome. He wasn't supposed to be able to detect anything more than the standard three which, he surmised, indicated one thing – his veela half was smelling something too. Which meant it wasn't comatose like he wanted it to be.

Just fucking fabulous.

The new scents were very specific and therefore more difficult to categorise correctly. He tried to wear a mask of disinterest as he smelt the mixture again, not wanting to signal to the students that he was on the verge of having an existential crisis. (The Slytherins would no doubt try to exploit his momentary weakness. The Hufflepuffs would probably try to help him. The latter was far more insulting to Scorpius). He closed his eyes and tried to focus his well-trained nose on the first new scent that wafted towards him. It was…something very familiar. Something dusty. Underwhelming, but welcoming. Warm. Ah ha! It was candle wax. Candle wax? An odd addition given it was found _literally everywhere_. What was the point of candle wax even being something he identified? It certainly didn't limit his options. His mate was someone who owned candles. Excellent, that only narrowed it down to _every fucking witch ever._

Merlin's crusty left bollock, his Veela was stupid.

Maybe his Veela didn't like the dark. Maybe finding the smell of candle wax attractive was a way of signifying it didn't like being silence and craved being brought to the light…

Well too fucking bad. It could stay locked up in it's little prison his mind had made for it long ago. As soon as he got more of the goddam flower it was curtains forever. _Dream about candle wax all you like, you stupid bird; you won't be seeing the sun as long as I'm breathing._

The next new scent was another that was familiar but unnamable. It was strong, and bitter with a very faint undertone of something sweeter. Maybe a trace of honey? Vanilla? Something extra. Overall it was overwhelmingly bitter and robust. He tried to search his memory for a time he remembered smelling it but came up short. He knew he knew it – the answer was on the tip of his tongue, dancing just out of reach. He wanted to inhale again, deeper, but was concerned that it might have an adverse and obvious effect on him, and his students definitely didn't need to witness that. As it was he was feeling a bit buzzed. Who knew what would happen if he inhaled any more.

The last new scent was another that stumped him. It was sweet with earthy undertones. It wasn't as organic as the roses he'd always smelt, but it was similar. Some kind of imitation perhaps? Maybe a different kind of flower he was unfamiliar with. It wasn't something he immediately recognised. It lingered outside of his consciousness, conjured false memories of places he might have encountered it. Scorpius decided he might just have to go and have a wander through the greenhouses sometime this week to try and seek out the particular scent.

( _There was something inside him, deep inside him, something sleepy and heavy that struggled to creep forward towards it. It could smell it. Could taste it. It was calling to it.)_

A scuffle at the back of the class drew his attention, which was probably fortuitous all things considered. He looked up to see a Baxter Sanderson, an outspoken Slytherin student, bickering with his partner Thomas Leary, a Hufflepuff who, whilst kind, was no push over. They'd been friends for years, but seemed to be growing particularly close in the past twelve months or so.

"You've screwed it up!" Baxter accused, putting his face as close to the cauldron as he dared, which wasn't very close.

"Me?!" Thomas sounded indignant as he pushed Baxter out of the way and thrust his head almost entirely into his cauldron, "You're the one making this impossible! Did you _bathe_ in your cologne today? It's no wonder neither of us can smell anything!"

"Don't drink it you twat!" Baxter yanked Thomas out of the oblivion by his collar, "And my cologne isn't anywhere near as strong as that bloody peanut-butter sandwich you insist on carrying! How many did you pack? Ten?"

"Oh well excuse me for having the forethought to pack a snack!"

Scorpius stood in front of their workstation and cleared his throat to get their attention, a smirk playing across his features. He did so delight when something like this happened, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't picked it would be Sanderson and Leary it happened to.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Scorpius kept his voice quiet, mindful of a few students looking their way. The pair stopped their bickering and looked instantly paler.

"I…ah…" Thomas raked his hands through his hair, "I think I might have…um…well I think something's gone wrong with our potion."

He rubbed at his arm in a nervous gesture. Scorpius flicked his gaze to Baxter who was trying to hide his inner turmoil and failing rather spectacularly.

"It was probably the Peppermint Oil," he supplied quickly, "I think it had spoiled."

A ridiculous claim but he had to give the boy points for trying to protect his friend whilst taking none of the blame himself. So very Slytherin. It made him proud.

"Are you questioning my ability to keep in-date stock, Mr. Sanderson?"

The child audibly gulped, "No…I mean…not on purpose, sir."

"I can assure you the oil was good, as were the other ingredients," Scorpius looked into the cauldron and delighted at what he saw, "Which explains why you've managed to brew an exemplary dose of Amortentia."

"We have?!" Thomas looked relieved beyond measure. Baxter looked skeptical.

Baxter would figure it out first, he guessed.

"Indeed," Scorpius was smiling now. Not because it was young love getting a helping hand, no that would be ridiculous. It was more the case that they were both going to be embarrassed when he pointed out their errors. Oh what fun, "Tell me what you smell. We'll start with you, Leary."

"Nothing," Thomas got far too close to it again and took another deep breath, "I mean, maybe some…I don't know…something like a scone? The kitchens? All I smell is the kitchens. And maybe…maybe rain? But that's all."

"And Sanderson's cologne," Scorpius supplied with a smile.

The boy went beet red. It was delicious.

"Wha-? Yeah, but just because it's so strong! I mean I smell it but not like, from the potion, right?" he turned to face his friend who had gone very still, "Right?"

"How about you?" Scorpius asked, turning to Baxter who looked like he either wanted to murder him or hug him. Of the two, Scorpius would prefer the former, "What do you smell, Sanderson?"

He watched the trepidation cross over the boys face and for a second he thought he was going to deny the whole thing.

"I smell Flourish and Botts," Sanderson answered quietly, "And…pine."

"And Leary's sandwich," Scorpius did not phrase it as a question because it wasn't one. The student stayed silent. Scorpius had to admire his stubbornness; he dared say he would have done the same if he were in their position.

"Excellent work, gentlemen. I expect a full report by the end of the week," he smiled at them as he walked away, "You'll be writing it together, of course."

He was quite sure he heard Leary swear under his breath. Wonderful.

Scorpius moved through the class and was actually pleasantly surprised to find most students had managed to brew something that at least resembled Amortentia. For some reason, even his most troublesome students were actually pretty invested in getting the Love Potion right. It was sickening.

At the end of the lesson, Scorpius watched Sanderson and Leary leave his classroom, each of them very determinedly not looking at the other and he had to smile – they'd figure it out eventually. It also gave him the smallest semblance of hope. The two boys – who _clearly_ fancied each other – had smelt the other in their potions. Sanderson's cologne was expensive and unlikely to be worn by any other student Leary had contact with; while Leary was well known for carrying peanut butter sandwiches and was somewhat of a saviour for first years as he handed them out to lost muggle-borns during their first few weeks. There was no doubt that those two scents were very clearly meant to indicate the two boys in question.

The reason this was helpful for Scorpius was because none of the things he smelt were immediately identifiable to one specific person. Hell, he couldn't even identify two of the additional three his veela was picking up one. Which meant his mate was clearly not someone he came into regular contact with.

Thank the heavens!

If he was unlikely to be around the person of his veela's desire, than maybe he could keep this thing under wraps until the additional monkshood came in. He could handle this. Maybe all was not lost after all.

* * *

The rest of the day passed with few issues. He took points off Ravenclaw when one of his second year students attempted to smuggle some of his supplies out 'for additional research', and only had to put out two fires in his first year classes. All things considered, it was not an awful day. To make things better, Weasley appeared to be taking midnight classes for a few weeks, which meant she basically became nocturnal and wouldn't be bothering him at meal times. It was a blessing for all involved (they were ordered to sit at opposite ends of the staff table ever since the Staff Christmas Party Turkey Incident that ended with Rose transfigured into a literal cranberry and Scorpius having a turkey carcass stuck on his head). He could eat his meals without having the niggling thought in the back of his head that she may have attempted to poison him. It was positively peaceful. And besides the little hiccup with his Amortentia potion, there didn't seem to be any other side effects from having a half-strength potion.

At least there hadn't been. Until he attempted to sleep.

Scorpius had always been a bit of a night owl, and detested mornings with a passion. It was not abnormal for him to feel restless when attempting to sleep.

What was abnormal, however, was him still not being able to sleep after taking a sleeping draught and counting backwards from one hundred three times over. Something wasn't right.

It wasn't just that he was unusually alert for this time of the night; there was something else gnawing away at him. It was an itch under his skin that he couldn't scratch, a heaviness in his ribcage that rattled with each beat of his heart, a tugging on his lungs. Something inside Scorpius would not rest, and it was making the rest of him feel feint and jittery.

He wiped his forehead and was horrified when a sheen of sweat came across his hand. That wasn't normal. He shouldn't be sweating – it may be September but it wasn't exactly warm. It was downright pleasant in fact. There was absolutely no reason for his body to be causing him any problems.

Except, you know, the bird-thing element was there.

He refused to lie in bed becoming a slave to these feelings of unease. If potions didn't work, and meditation didn't bring any relief, he would just have to calm himself down in another way.

And it was a beautiful night to go flying.

Flying always brought him peace. It was something about the feel of the wind in his hair and weightlessness of being carried on the breeze that melted his problems away. He would often go flying when he got upset or agitated. It had saved him many a meltdown when he was a student here. Flying was his sanctuary, and it seemed like a perfectly reasonable cure to his current ailment.

Now, with the gift of hindsight, Scorpius could acknowledge that perhaps getting on a broom in his pyjamas at eleven o'clock at night may not have been the smartest plan. Ideally, rather then leaping from his bed, grabbing his broom and flying out of his bedroom window, he might have instead walked calmly to the front of the castle, allowing his body an opportunity to tell him it wasn't quite up to flying just yet. He may have even gotten changed so as not to arouse suspicion amongst any students or staff that just so happened to be out of bed at this hour. He could have hovered on his broom in his bedroom, feet just off the ground, to judge whether or not his body was ready to be airborne.

The thing with hindsight, however, is that it does you absolutely no good _before_ you make regrettable decisions.

None of these thoughts occurred to Scorpius until he was in the air flying above Hogwarts at dizzying speeds and his vision suddenly became cloudy. It was only when his hands started to go shaky, his breathing started becoming laboured, and his head began spinning that Scorpius realised the myriad of ways he could have been a lot smarter about his decision. He felt his chest tightening, and he was so focused on trying to identify just what the fuck was going on, that he didn't even realise where he was flying.

He didn't notice how dangerously close to the buildings he was getting. He didn't notice that he barely had control of his broom anymore. And he certainly didn't notice that he was going to careen into the side of the Astronomy Tower until it was almost too late.

With the brick encroaching at an alarming speed, Scorpius pulled up suddenly, swooped around the tower and tried to focus enough to land on the first available flat surface. He saw the large open archways of the classroom and, without actually thinking about it, aimed for the floor before he came tumbling off his broom. He landed inelegantly with a thud, just barely remaining upright and swaying violently.

" _WHAT IN THE NAME OF MORGANA'S LEFT TIT?!_ "

He looked up through the hair that had come undone and was now covering his eyes to see Rose Weasley, wand drawn and face furious, purple robes billowing around her from where she had presumably spun quickly to face him. He tried to find words, wanted to say something cutting or sarcastic as was their way, but found himself coming up short. Visions of the Astronomy Tower wall were still flashing through his mind and he was quite certain his stomach had lodged itself in his throat in all the excitement. He wanted to vomit. In fact it took all of his energy to shut down his base instincts to prevent himself from doing so.

Dear lord he almost died _in his pyjamas_. Merlin it was humiliating.

He watched as Rose's face fell and she lowered her wand. He must look pretty fucking bad if Rose was looking at him like that. Her mouth moved but he couldn't hear what she was saying, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears too powerful to let anything else in. He swallowed but the lump lodged in his throat didn't shift, if anything it just became thicker. She took a slow step towards him, her initial anger giving way to worry. He focused his attention on her, trying to force his mind away from the sky and the tower to come back to the classroom.

At long last, Scorpius could finally hear her through the rush of blood in his ears.

"Malfoy?" Rose called, her hand held out in front of her like she was approaching a scared animal. Scorpius could accept that, technical speaking, that was somewhat correct, "Are you ok?"

"I'm…" he was tempted to say 'not sure' because that was the truth of the matter. But him and Weasley very rarely exchanged truths, so he stopped himself, "Yes."

He was swaying on his feet, the tiredness that had so eluded him suddenly hitting him like a wave.

"No you're not," her tone left no room for argument, "Come and sit down. I don't think you should be getting on a broom in your state."

 _His state._ How embarrassing. Maybe that Amortentia had done something to his senses, thrown him off balance, fucked with his biology. Maybe his veela was a conniving asshole intent on ruining his existence. Who could say?

Rose beckoned him towards her and to her desk at the back of the Astrology Tower classroom. His feet felt heavy and the floor felt unsteady. It was for that reason, and that reason alone, that when he reached Rose he took her outstretched hand and clutched it tightly, using his broom as a cane. The physical contact obviously threw her off too, and he saw the way she instinctively moved to withdraw her hand. His entirely randomly timed stumble seemed to convince her otherwise. She walked with him slowly and deposited him in the chair he assumed she usually kept for herself. He sank into it, letting out an audible sigh at its comforting embrace. He took a few deep breaths, noticing that his nausea and the weird pull behind his lungs was subsiding. Thank the creators.

"You look," she faltered, and had he had his eyes open, he would have noted that she genuinely looked concerned for him rather than just annoyed at his continued ability to breathe, "You look like total shit."

He groaned, still not opening his eyelids that suddenly felt like lead. "Respecting my sensibilities like always Weasley."

He focused on his breathing, timing his inhales to distract from the slight urge to vomit that was, thankfully, dissipating.

"Seriously," she continued, probably just to spite him, "You look the worst I have ever seen you."

"No need to dwell on it."

"Worse than when I gave you that bat boogey hex in second year."

"This feels like dwelling."

"And a thousand times worse than the time you started vomiting slugs."

"This is almost exactly what I asked you not to do, you realise that don't you?"

"You look worse than Albus did when he got that weird STI from that visiting French student."

That forced him to crack and eyelid and scowl at her, "You know what doesn't make someone feel better? Recounting all the times they've been sick, and then saying they look far worse. Talk about kicking a man when he's down..."

"I'm sorry it's just…" she faltered and he felt something silky and gentle run across his knuckles.

The pad of her thumb. It was...stroking him.

She was still holding his hand. Or he was still holding hers. Whoever was the cause of it they both seemed to be consenting to continuing it. And Rose was rubbing her thumb along his knuckles in what he guessed was an unconscious comforting gesture. It struck Scorpius that this was the first time they had actually touched that wasn't with the intention of causing grievous bodily harm. And much to his horror and astonishment, it wasn't awful.

Merlin he must be going mad.

"Seeing you like this is the first bit of proof that you are actually human," the irony that this was likely caused by the fact that he _wasn't actually human_ was not lost on him, "It's…I dunno…scary."

That forced him to crack a smile, a disbelieving little gust of air that would have been a laugh had he had more energy escaping his mouth.

"After all these years I've tried to be intimidating and turns out all I needed to do was feel close to death," he smiled through the haze still encroaching on his vision, "My second year self is positively livid it was this simple all along."

Rose let out an exasperated sigh. "You're always intimidating Malfoy. I'm mainly just scared whatever you've got is contagious."

"So what you're saying is that you're actually just concerned for yourself?"

"Obviously."

At least when the rest of his world was imploding he could count on Rose to be her usual antagonistic self. It was oddly comforting.

She reached forward and placed the back of her hand across his forehead, checking for his temperature. Something deep in his chest rumbled. Her hand felt so nice and cold against his clammy skin.

"You feel a bit hot-"

He opened his mouth to retort.

"Don't even think of taking that as a compliment."

He closed his mouth again.

"What if it's Dragon Pox?" she asked, suddenly sounding erratic, "Oh my god it's probably Dragon Pox. I'm sending for Madam Pomfrey."

Rose stood to head towards the floo but Scorpius latched onto her arm, refusing to let her go. Who knows what kind of potions or tests Pomfrey would administer; who knows what they would discover about him in his (hopefully) temporarily weakened state. The last thing he needed was anyone else finding out about this. When he was seconds from death, then – and only then – would he seek a secondary consultation. Until then, he would ride this out, even if it meant being holed up at the back of Rose's classroom for the next three days.

His fingertips dug into the skin at her pulse point and he felt electric. Like he could feel her heartbeat in his throat. He felt it rise, felt it falter when she looked at him and the grip he had on her wrist. He was probably scaring her, but god this was the best he'd felt since he discovered he didn't have enough Monkshood. A weird kind of calm came with listening to her heart race. His own met it's timing, the sound of their matched beating echoing in his ears. Which was ridiculous, there was no way he could sense someone else's heartbeat so perfectly with nothing but a touch.

Was that a veela thing? He couldn't recall anyone listing ' _enhanced auditory processing that magnified the sound of heartbeats and literally nothing else_ ' in any of their studies of the creatures. However, given it was such a bloody pointless power maybe no one thought it was worth mentioning.

Scorpius didn't feel as overwhelmingly ill anymore. He still felt considerably lightheaded, but not like he was about to drop dead. So there was even less reason to get Pomfrey involved.

"Please don't," his tone sounded suspiciously like begging, "I'm feeling better I swear."

She gave him a pointed look. "You're not looking any better."

"Looks aren't everything, Weasley. You of all people should understand that."

He saw her repress her instinctual response to hit him.

Her response was deadpan. "You can't regulate your temperature or stand without swaying, and yet you still find the energy to be a prat."

He smiled a deceptively sweet smile. "I could be bleeding out of every orifice and I'd still manage to be a prat to you, Weasley."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Remind me again why I'm helping you."

"Because if what I do have is contagious you've probably already got it, and you'll feel wretched that you were mean to me when you feel this bad."

"I won't feel guilty because you deserve it."

"Please Rose, I don't need Pomfrey, I need…"

He needed a lifetime supply of Monkshood so this never happened again. He needed the thing in his head silenced. He needed to quell this ever encroaching longing that sat heavy in his rib cage. He needed to change his genetics.

He needed a lot of things she simply couldn't give him. Solitude would have to do.

"I just need to ride this out for a while," he saw her sharp edges softening at the pleading tone in his voice, "You don't have to sit with me. But I just need to sit here for a bit until I get my bearings."

Which could take anywhere from 20 minutes to 3 working days. He decided not to mention that part.

"Ok…" she said with more than a little skepticism, "I'm going to keep prepping for my lesson. But if you vomit or start sprouting spots I'm sending you to Pomfrey immediately."

"Fine, fine," he brushed her off, then smiled honestly, "Thank you."

His honestly seemed to throw her, so she simply moved off and began pottering away with the telescopes and star charts littered around the room. Scorpius closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. The momentary reprieve from all his symptoms didn't last long; he soon felt clammy again, his overwhelming urge to sleep receding once more. He felt the tiredness in his bones, but there was something that stopped him from going under. Something under his skin that crawled and crept, something that was very _awake_. He fought against it, tried to remember every calming technique he'd heard his mother talk his father through when he was plagued by nightmares of his old life.

Scorpius wasn't doing very well at calming himself down, and it was for that reason alone that he didn't throw something at Weasley when she spoke up.

"So what's brought on this sickness, anyway?" she asked, failing to keep the undertone of worry from tinting her tone.

Just going through a second round of puberty, but instead of growing hair in his groin and armpits he's becoming part sex-bird. No biggie.

He did not tell her this.

"I don't know," he lied, counting the long moments between his breaths.

"And why did you get on your broom?" she continued, and he thought she may not have heard him. Or if she didn't she didn't care. It was very indicative of their relationship, "Who feels close to death and thinks 'I know what will help this! Elevating myself a hundred feet in the air with only a stick for support'?"

"I couldn't sleep," he mumbled, the slight itching under his skin rising and falling in waves. It felt like there was something simmering in his blood, just barely contained. He wanted to do all he could to keep it there, focusing on his breathing and _not_ whatever Weasley was prattling on about, "I thought flying would…I don't know…calm me down or something."

There was a long pause and he thought for one blissful moment that she was going to shut up. She didn't.

"Did you try a sleeping draught?"

He rolled his eyes so hard he almost gave himself a seizure.

"No Weasley, I, Scorpius Malfoy, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, did not think to brew myself a sleeping draught. But now that you've suggested it, I think I just might. Whatever would I do without and your infinite wisdom? Future generations will write odes to your intelligence."

He felt something 'whoosh' past his head before he heard a clattering to his left. Weasley had probably thrown a book at him. He probably deserved it. He was quite certain he heard her muttering about him being an insufferable git. It made him smile.

There were a few more moments of conversation-free time before Weasley forgot how to be silent. Again.

"It's just so odd because you appeared perfectly fine yesterday," it could just be because he was going mad, but Scorpius swore she was placing items on tables with more gusto than strictly required, the sound of numerous instruments clanging loudly echoing through the room, "And now you can't sleep and can barely stand. It's concerning."

"Yes, it's almost as if this bug I've got has developed in the last twenty-four hours," he responded his tone dry and cutting, "Bet I'm the first person that's ever happened to. Write a book about it when I'm dead, will you?"

"I'll write something…."he heard her mutter to herself, "A whole fucking song about how much better life is now that you're gone…maybe a sonnet…or a whole fucking play…"

Scorpius smiled to himself. There was something about verbally sparring with Weasley that lifted his spirits, even if he was still feeling a bit like shit. In fact his hand still buzzed from holding her wrist, the sound of her heartbeat still echoing softly in his ears. His sensory processing was clearly out of order. How had no one ever written about this before? He made a mental note to document all of this to save the next poor Malfoy sod from going through a similarly awful experience.

Of course for that to happen, he'd have to have a spawn.

And he didn't particularly like children.

Maybe that was it – maybe his veela could sense he was the last of the line so was determined to spite him by making his transition all the more difficult. It would be 'The Malfoy Way' to die out in as inconvenient a manner as possible. It was almost poetically fitting.

Rose interrupts his inner ramblings as she walked past him towards her office at the back of the room.

"Did you want some tea?" she asked almost out of habit. She seemed to catch herself, realized she didn't want to make him tea or show him any kindness beyond what was strictly necessary. He took her up on the offer regardless.

"That would be lovely, thank you," his skin bristled as she passed him, "White, one sugar thank you."

He heard more clanging and cluttering and Scorpius wondered if Weasley was actually capable of doing _anything_ quietly. Heaven knows if she could he certainly hadn't witnessed it. Even her fucking heartbeat was as loud as a howling horntail.

She returned with a tray with two cups on it, and accioed a seat for herself to sit on. He would feel guilty about stealing her only seat but given the fact that he was turning into a fucking bird-person he figured he could cut himself some slack. Besides, how did Weasley end up with a comfier work chair than he did? He had a fucking stool in his lab and yet Weasley got this bloody armchair?! That hardly seemed fair.

Rose handed him a cup and saucer and very firmly told him, "Drink."

He accepted it grudgingly and rolled his eyes, "Giving orders to your guests Weasley? Not very polite."

"You're not a guest," she said as she took her own cup, "You're a literal drop in who may have infected me with Dragon Pox. You're lucky you're getting tea at all."

He smiled into his cup, bringing it to his lips and inhaling the scent.

He promptly choked on his own spit.

"This isn't what I ordered," he said accusatorially (some might even argue he sounded a tad _childish_ but he would hex them if they did), glaring at the cup of yellow-ish water. Even Weasley shouldn't be able to screw up a standard cuppa this bloody badly. It looked like urine.

"I know," her smile had an arrogant edge to it and he almost scowled at her, "It's chamomile. It's soothing; should help you sleep."

"A sleeping draught didn't help me sleep, Weasley, you really think tea is going to do the trick?"

Although, he had to admit, he was feeling very sleepy ever since he got to the Astronomy Tower. He was quietly positive he could almost fall asleep in this very chair if he was graced with a quieter companion.

"Well it couldn't hurt," she turned her nose up at him and took a sip from her own cup, "The last thing you need is caffeine. This will be better for you."

"I don't need you babying me, Weasley," he muttered as he grudgingly sipped his tea. It wasn't _completely_ awful.

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow at him and raked her eyes over him pointedly ( _something beneath his skin heated and he felt a tugging towards her. She shouldn't look at him like that. It made him feel….weird. Wanted._ ), "Says the man sitting in my classroom wearing his pyjamas."

Merlin he was never going to live this down. Would obliviating a colleague get him fired? Because it was bloody tempting right now.

Scorpius inhaled deeply and was abruptly hit in the face with elation quickly followed by dread.

The second scent.

The odd bitter smell from his potion. It was here.

He looked to Rose and saw her take a long sip from her cup. Now that he really looked at it he noticed it wasn't a standard teacup; it was much bigger, thicker. More of a mug. She picked up on his staring and gestured to her mug holding the offending liquid.

"I'm certainly not giving you coffee at this hour, Malfoy," she took another sip, the drink lacing her breath. He found it intoxicating, "When you have to teach a bunch of thirteen year olds at midnight then you get delicious hazelnut coffee. Until then, just Chamomile Tea for you."

Coffee. Hazelnut Coffee. That's what he had been able to smell this morning. In his Amortentia potion. That his veela recognised.

Holy Fuck.

No.

No.

 _NO._

There was no fucking way his Veela smelt Rose.

Scorpius became suddenly aware of the amount of candles in the astronomy tower. In fact, the whole place _smelt like candle wax_.

 _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_

"Malfoy?" she tensed and looked ready to pounce on him, "What's wrong?"

Her voice echoed in his head. The scent of her breath drifting to him. It was intoxicating and terrifying and he either wanted to jump out the window to his death or pull her closer so he could inhale her properly.

Holy Merlin he had to get out of here.

"Look at the time! " he sprung to his feet and forced his words out in a rush, ignoring the way the floor seemed to shift beneath his feet, "You'll have students arriving any minute. I really must be off."

"Malfoy, you need to sit down-" she reached towards him, worry and a drop of fear in her eyes.

"No, no!" he grabbed his broom from where he'd dropped it on the floor and began marching towards the archway-windows, "I'm feeling much better."

Lies. All lies. He felt infinitely _worse_ with every step he took away from her but he had to get out of this room before his head physically exploded.

"Malfoy!" she called and ran after him. He waved at her over his shoulder and ran to the nearest windowsill.

"Hope the kids aren't total assholes to you, Weasley. Cheerio!"

Cheerio? _Cheerio?_ He never said cheerio and definitely not to Weasley.

Without giving her a chance to hex him into staying, Scorpius leapt onto his broom and dived out the window. He needed to get back to his room. He needed to get there _now_. He just needed to be anywhere that wasn't Rose Weasley's immediate vicinity so he could figure out just what the fuck was going on.

He heard her call out to him faintly, calling him to ' _get back here!'_ And Merlin help him the tugging at his chest increased, and something inside him tried desperately hard to follow her orders.

 _No,_ he thought with conviction, _we're not going back._

He didn't notice he referred to himself as 'we'.

He felt his bones start aching and his chest start tightening but he kept flying steadily towards the ground. He wouldn't go back. So what if she called to him? So what if his body wanted to follow? What did it know?! He was not turning around. He was stronger than this demon. He had to be.

Scorpius did not attempt to fly the whole way back to his room – he didn't like his chances of being able to glide in through his window given his mind was racing so quickly. Instead, he landed on the grounds outside the castle and relished in the opportunity to walk in the cool night air to calm the heat prickling at his skin. Maybe the cold night air would knock some sense into him.

This didn't have to mean what he thought it meant.

Like he acknowledged this morning, everywhere smelt like candle wax in this place. The Great Hall had a plethora of candles. The Library was filled with them. The Ministry of Magic had candles absolutely everywhere. All smelling candle wax meant was that his mate was a witch, because muggles rarely used the things. Which was a good sign. It would be a hell of a lot more difficult to explain his already unique situation to someone who didn't even know what magic was. The candle wax smell was nothing to be concerned about.

The coffee was…somewhat less explainable. It wasn't a common beverage amongst British witches and wizards, but who's to say his mate isn't American. The American's loved coffee! And their hazelnut syrups! Yes, maybe the coffee wasn't necessarily specific to Rose, and instead indicated that his mate was a female American witch. Yes, that was a perfectly reasonable excuse.

( _He did not think about how his heartbeat mirrored hers, or how all of his symptoms seemed to disappear when she held his hand or how he wanted to turn back when she called to him. He didn't think about any of that whatsoever_ )

By the time Scorpius had returned to his sleeping quarters, he had just about convinced himself that everything would be fine and he had merely jumped to conclusions. He and Rose would remain adversaries that barely spoke, and he would speak with Headmaster Longbottom about the possibility of exchanging positions with someone at Ilvermorny to improve his chances of coming across an American witch who liked hazelnut coffee, candles, and roses. _This would be fine,_ he reconciled _, there really was nothing to panic about._

Scorpius brewed himself another sleeping draught and combined it with a draught of peace, just to be safe. By the time his head hit the pillow he was impossibly calm. Within minutes he was softly snoring and dead to the world.

* * *

Scorpius dreamt of freckled skin smooth as silk beneath his fingers.

He dreamt of red curls wrapped around his fist as he pulled her towards him.

He dreamt of coffee-stained lips pressed to his, seizing his breath.

He dreamt of laying in the cradle of her thighs, open and welcoming for him.

He dreamt of his arms wrapped around her body, holding them close as they moved together.

He dreamt of her lips parted in a sigh, his name falling off a wicked tongue.

He dreamt of licking the sheen of sweat off her skin where only he could touch.

He dreamt of blue eyes bright and dazed as they stared into – through – his own.

He dreamt of her smile shining bright – brighter than ever – just for him.

Scorpius Malfoy dreamt of Rose Weasley twisted in his sheets as he had his way with her.

When she told him she loved him, he woke with a start, sheets dampened with sweat and heart racing erratically. It took him a number of moments for the enormity of what he had just dreamt to register. When it did, he responded in the only way that felt appropriate.

" _FUUUUUUCK!"_

How the fuck was he supposed to handle this?


	3. Chapter 3

_So, guess whose computer decided to shit itself approximately one week after I posted the last chapter? This guy. So I have been having a bit of a meltdown while I tried to salvage what I could of my literally hundreds of documents that were almost lost to the aether. Good news - my techie friends came to my rescue (thank the heavens I actually backed up my comp every once in a while). Morale of the story - support and love your techie friends and always backup your computer somewhere. Also RIP to my old laptop; we had a lot of good times together. Everything I've ever posted to this website was written on that thing. I will treasure our memories._

 _Anyways, here's the next chapter. This was incredibly fun to write. Draco is very OOC, but I like to imagine this is a post-extensive-therapy, post-death-of-Lucius, post-teen-angst Draco that just became a big ole sass pot. You probably won't be seeing much of Albus as my staple side character, but you will get some more Draco. So yeah, that's your consolation prize._

 _Thanks to all those who have favourited/followed/reviewed. The reviews in particularly really brighten my spirits, so thanks heaps. Anyways, lets get to the good stuff._

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Birds of a Feather Flock Together**

Scorpius sent an owl to Headmaster Longbottom when he had finished having a brief panic attack in which he stared at his spoiled underwear with disdain before dry retching into the toilet. He advised in his brief letter that he was taking a 'personal day' and would likely return to work tomorrow.

Hopefully twenty-four hours would be enough to get this all under control.

He'd always thought the term 'personal day' was a bit wankery. Is any day _not_ personal? How does one experience a day without it being _personal_? It simply made no sense. Thoughts about the title aside, Scorpius was taking _a personal day_ to try to sort out what the fuck he was going to do about this absolutely colossal disaster currently unfolding in his hormone-riddled brain. His night had been plagued by images of Rose in various states of pleasure, usually with Scorpius lying in the cradle of her thighs, his face brightly painted with his own euphoria. The feel of her skin was so tangible beneath his skin he struggled to believe it was only a dream. The entire night had been filled with a lightness he'd never known. He'd felt warm and complete when he woke.

It made him sick.

He had tried to reconcile that these dreams were not signs that Rose was his mate. Perhaps, he pondered, his veela was just a really horny bugger (they were sexual creatures, after all) and recognised that Rose was the only female of a similar age to him within the immediate vicinity. Her fertility and proximity was inspiring his invasive visions, nothing more sinister and permanent. Scorpius figured it was probably just as likely for him to dream of someone different if he were to stay some place else where he was more surrounded by females in their twenties. It wasn't _Rose_ , it was just her demographic that had him dreaming of her. That was it.

Of course, that didn't explain that Amortentia debacle. But he was doing what any healthy adult would do when faced with information he couldn't quite reconcile – he ignored it.

Reason for the visions and smells aside, he needed to get himself under control before he was ready to stand before a bunch of hormone-riddled idiot teenagers that were going to batter him with inane questions about potions he could do in his sleep. He needed to find a way to regulate his emotions and hormones until he could brew his potion full strength again. So he set out to the one place that was basically the temple for emotional suppression.

He went to the Manor.

Malfoy Manor was still as immaculate as ever, although it didn't seem quite as huge and imposing as it did when he was a child. The walk from the front gates to the entry seemed to take an age when he was six, running breathlessly from the albino peacocks that grazed and swayed through the gardens. He never trusted the creatures, not since one (which his mother had named Hector, and Scorpius had named Asshole) had tried to intimidate him with it's giant tail and almost chase him up a tree when he was five. When the day came that he eventually inherited this place, Scorpius was going to get rid of all of the blasted birds. Release them into the wild or something. Send them as sacrifices to dragons in Romania, he didn't care. All he was worried about was that his days of being haunted by ghost birds were over.

Thankfully, having arrived by floo, he was not required to run the gauntlet and best the feathered beasts this morning. Which was bloody lucky - he was barely managing to be civil to students in his duty of care in his current condition, he certainly wasn't going to be civil to his avian nemeses. And he simply had no desire to try and explain to his mother how three of her prized peacocks had found themselves turned into stone.

Maybe that's where his hatred of birds began? First albino peacocks, now inner sex-birds? Maybe he'd have some kind of dominance over the blasted peacocks now that he was part-bird himself. Maybe he'd try it some day. Not today, but some day.

The floo in the main entrance hall flared to life with his arrival, and Scorpius almost had to shield his eyes from the familiar bright white display he was met with. The entire room was polished marble and white paint - alabaster extravagance. He supposed other would find it quite stunning. For Scorpius it was just home.

He tripped as he exited the floo, and almost hit his head on the mantle in surprise when his father's voice carried down to him from the top of the open ornate staircase at the end of the room.

"Scorpius?" Draco assessed his son from head to toe, quite possibly looking for signs of spontaneous wing-growth or 'shiny-ness', his hand resting on the bannister as he continued his slow and graceful descent towards the entrance hall, "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

Which was polite-posh speak for 'what the fuck are you doing here uninvited?'.

"I've taken a personal day," Scorpius announced as he dusted some lingering floo powder from his shoulders, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible when every cell in his body felt like it was buzzing, "I need answers."

If he had to categorise his father's general demeanour, he'd name it 'concerned for my son's wellbeing' with a hint of 'I've birthed a mentally unsound spawn'. Which was probably a fair call.

"Answers to what?" The older man asked as he came to the bottom of the stairs, his footsteps creating crisp echoes throughout the space.

"My third year arithmancy homework," Scorpius deadpanned before snapping, "What do you think?! Honestly…"

He marched through the room in the general direction of his father's study. Situated next to the library and with an extensive collection of personal diaries kept by various members of his cursed family tree, Scorpius decided it would be the best place to begin his hunt for something resembling the truth that could assist him with his current predicament. His brisk footsteps echoed across the marble flooring just as his father's had, although where Draco's had been clipped and measured, Scorpius' sounded frantic and erratic. _Merlin, even his footsteps were batshit insane_. He heard his father, comparatively quietly, trailing after him as he kept a respectable distance from his slightly unhinged son. They walked (well, Draco walked, Scorpius _marched_ ) in silence to the study, thoughts racing through the younger man's head whilst his father retained his ever-present impassiveness.

His father entered the study a comfortable number of moments after Scorpius had stormed in, and found him frantically cataloguing the hundreds of books before him to try and figure out where to start. It was a somewhat pointless process.

"You should have tea first," Draco announced in a tone that bade no argument as he flicked his hand towards the corner of the room, summoning a self-making silver tea set. It levitated towards the armchair his father had gracefully reclined in, settling soundlessly onto the end table beside the chair.

"I don't want any tea," Scorpius responded as he shuffled back and forth along the bookshelf that took up the entire northerly wall of the room.

"To refuse would be quite impolite," Draco offered sternly as he carefully poured two cups.

"I'm your son – my impropriety is your own doing. Reap what you sew, father."

" _Tea Scorpius_."

He knew that tone. And even at over a quarter century old Scorpius Malfoy still regressed into a petulant child when it came out. His inner ten year old was cowering in fear. His inner sixteen year old instinctually wanted to rebel. His outer twenty-seven-year-old actually really wanted some tea.

He abandoned his perusal of the books in favour of joining Draco and the therapy-masquerading-as-tea. They managed to get through almost a whole two minutes of silence before his father spoke.

"You mother is having brunch with your Aunt Daphne in case you were wondering," Draco announced, clearly indicating that it was incredibly rude of Scorpius to not enquire as to his mother's whereabouts when he arrived. Scorpius did feel the slightest bit guilty about the social faux pass, not because it was considered rude in society circles, but just that he'd forgotten to even ask about his mum. He made a mental note to send her some flowers or something, just to make himself feel better.

Also because anyone who survived brunch with Aunt Daphne deserves some sort of prize to commend their god-like forgiveness of gross stupidity.

Scorpius nodded in acknowledgment as he reached for the perfectly brewed cup of tea, "Give her my best."

His father responded with a similarly despondent hum as he sipped his tea. They fell back into the silence Scorpius had become well accustomed to since his youth. He felt his leg bouncing with his poorly concealed anxiousness. He really didn't have time to be sitting here drinking tea. There was a tingle beneath his fingertips that, try as he might to convince himself otherwise, he strongly suspected was due to the increased distance between him and Weasley. Rather than encouraging him to return to her, as was probably it's intention, the unwelcome tremor simply spurred his desire to start reading every last book on these shelves that might offer him the slightest bit of insight into how to break this curse.

"So, these answers you're seeking…" his father paused meaningfully, obviously expecting Scorpius to fill the silence. He did not. Draco continued, "What's brought on the sudden desire to seek them out?"

Scorpius did not feel the need to tell his father the complete truth about the horrifying reality of who his mate likely was. If everything went to plan, that would be knowledge he would take to his grave.

"The half strength potion isn't working," was all he said as way of explanation, his knee still tapping incessantly, "I need to find some kind of substitute or – even better – break the bond."

The slight rattle of his father's cup hitting the saucer with an ounce more strength than necessary indicated Scorpius had given himself away. He said nothing, kept his eyes focused on the floor and very consciously not on his father.

"So you've felt it then?" when Scorpius did not respond Draco elaborated, "The bond?"

He felt an urge to bite the inside of his cheek and momentarily thought that his surfacing veela must be the most anxious being on the planet to be forcing him to be so outwardly jittery when he had almost mastered the act of concealing all his emotions in his twenty-seven years on the planet.

Stupid fucking veela.

"In a way," Scorpius shrugged, hopefully nonchalantly, "I feel constantly…irritated."

His father raised an eyebrow in silent judgment. Scorpius rolled his eyes, "More so than usual," he amended.

Draco was not satisfied with his answer, "It's unusual for you to be impacted so significantly so quickly if you don't know who your mate is."

There was a hint of judgment in his father's tone, like he was trying to catch him out in a lie. Which Scorpius resented – it wasn't like he was some twelve year old pre-pubescent child who had broken an intricate vase and tried to cover it up poorly by blaming it on a non-existent cat. He was a grown adult.

And as a grown adult, his father should have more faith in him and had absolutely no right to call him on his lie.

"How would you know?" Scorpius snapped much too defensively not to be seen through, "I thought you said you didn't know of this occurring before?"

There was an almost imperceivable twitch of his father's eyebrow that indicated Scorpius' lies were not flying with Draco. He really shouldn't be surprised – he was unhinged, he couldn't be expected to give a convincing lie when he was like this. Plus he'd already committed a multitude of faux passes since his arrival so he was already being watched like a hawk.

"I had to study veelas quite extensively when it became apparent I'd engendered one," his father was matching his sarcasm in spades. Scorpius had the sinking feeling he would be out-matched, "You may be the first to have this particular predicament with the Monkshood, but you're certainly not the first to feel the pull of their mate calling to them."

"I wouldn't say my mate is calling me," Scorpius defended, glaring at the carpet as he thought of Weasley and her bushy hair and shrieking voice and _all her bloody portkeys (_ his glare only intensified when he felt the warmth pooling in his stomach and moving south just at the thought of her yelling at him. Bloody Hell) _,_ "More like tormenting me and plotting my demise."

There was a shift in the atmosphere and Scorpius wished he could pull the words back out of existence. His father tensed - Draco read him like a book, always had, and for a terrifying minute Scorpius considered the horrifying prospect that his father might actually be able to surmise that Rose Bloody Weasley was probably his mate.

Then Scorpius remembered that the notion was preposterous - he could hardly believe it himself and it was _his_ veela. There was no way his father would ever suspect his arch-nemesis was the object of his veela's desires.

After several long minutes of silence, Draco spoke.

"It's the Weasley girl isn't it?"

Merlin as his witness, Scorpius almost did a spit-take.

" _What?_ How-" Scorpius caught himself before he spat anything else out he might regret, "…why would you assume that?"

Draco shrugged, "I've always had a feeling."

Scorpius would argue that this was technically true – his father did, in fact, have one _singular_ feeling and it was 'indifference'. So lest the man had suddenly 'caught the feelings' like some kind of abhorrent airborne disease, Scorpius outright refused to believe his father's bold claim of 'having a feeling' about him and Rose being destined to be together.

"You can't possibly be serious," he responded with strong undertones of rage.

Draco raised one very judgmental eyebrow at him and smiled in a way that Scorpius found to be painfully condescending. "You've been mildly obsessed with her for years, Scorpius."

"That is not true." He folded in on himself, crossing his arms and sinking down in his chair. If he was feeling slightly more self-reflective, Scorpius could probably recognise he was doing a very good impersonation of his angsty sixteen-year-old self. His father had the _absolute audacity_ to laugh at him.

"She was all you used to talk about when you came back for break," Draco's voice took on an exaggerated nasal tone that Scorpius did not appreciate, "' _Weasley got this on her O.W.L.s_ '. ' _Weasley is so annoying'. 'Weasley copped a bludger to the face – it was hilarious'._ I always knew more about Rose Weasley than I ever did about the people you claimed to actually like."

Scorpius glared at the older man and seriously considered whether throwing a tome at his father's face would get him dis-inherited. Surely his mother would understand; she's lived with the man for thirty years, she'd get it. She'd make sure Scorpius was still in the will.

"I've not been obsessed with Rose," Scorpius turned up his nose, "I was _antagonised_ by her. I still am in fact."

His father scoffed. SCOFFED. _Did he not care about his offspring's pain?!_

" _What does that mean?"_ Scorpius demanded indignantly.

"It's hardly antagonistic, Scorpius," his father responded, sipping his tea contemplatively, "Your mother always thought it was your way of flirting."

This kind of behaviour from his father was understandable but his mother?! Maybe he wouldn't send her flowers after all. What had he ever done to warrant this gross betrayal by the woman who birthed him?!

" _I DO NOT FLIRT WITH ROSE WEASLEY_."

"Yet."

" _EVER_."

"You're telling me you don't enjoy it?" Draco smirked at him over his teacup as he raised it to his lips and Scorpius suddenly understood why Rose punched him so often - being on the receiving end of that look was causing his blood to boil.

"What?" He demanded clarification.

"The banter."

They didn't _banter;_ they _argued._

"I like causing her emotional distress and knocking her off her pedestal."

If he had not looked away from his father at that exact moment, he may have caught the older man roll his eyes at him. "And how often does Rose appear genuinely hurt by your comments?"

Almost never these days. It was infuriating. To avoid voicing the truth, Scorpius stayed silent which was, regrettably, an answer in itself. His father continued.

"And when was the last time she said something that genuinely got under your skin?"

"Yesterday," Scorpius fired back without a second thought. Everything she said got under his skin, seeped into his bones, made him uneasy. It took him a few very long moments to realise that's probably not what his father meant. He tried to remember the last time Rose had said something that hurt him. They did argue, incessantly in fact, but, despite what he had just claimed, he was hard pressed to think of the last time he actually engaged her with the intent to cause her emotional distress. He liked seeing her angry, but that was because it felt like a victory; every time Rose got flustered, stormed off, yelled at him, every time he was able to crack through her defences and get a rise out of her felt like he was winning some battle they never consciously acknowledged they were fighting. And he did so like winning.

Scorpius thought of them being locked away in the supply room in the potions room, firing insults back and forth and how his blood raced and his heart pounded at the electricity between them. He thought about the way he sought her out just to fight, not because he wanted to inflict pain on her, but because he enjoyed it.

But that was just…circumstantial. Nothing more.

Draco, sensing his son was losing an internal war, asked another, seemingly unrelated, question."Scorpius, why did you take the job at Hogwarts?"

"It pays well and I like brewing potions," he shrugged and looked into his drastically cooling tea.

"Bullshit." Scorpius choked on his tongue. He'd never heard his father speak to him like that. He looked for any signs of the Imperius Curse as his father continued talking, "You could be earning three times the amount you are now working for any number of highly respected labs the world over. Try again."

Scorpius momentarily contemplated setting the bookcase on fire to avoid this conversation. He had a gut feeling it wasn't going to go well for him. "It keeps me close to home."

Draco's response was rapid-fire, "The floo network renders distance irrelevant."

"I think this whole conversation is irrelevant," Scorpius muttered in response.

There was a beat of silence, a very brief momentary pause before his father made a small observation in a tone that indicated he knew it's significance.

"Rose got the job at Hogwarts before you didn't she?"

Scorpius clenched his jaw so tight he almost pulled a muscle.

"We were employed at roughly the same time," the words were forced out through gritted teeth.

"The way I remember it," Draco started, condescension marinating his words, "you weren't going to accept the position; said you hated children and idiots alike, and working with idiotic children was a recipe for disaster."

Scorpius sometimes pondered whether he was actually a prophet, come to deliver the Lord's word to the masses given his speeches were so inspiring and accurate.

"And then you suddenly changed your mind," Draco's voice interrupted Scorpius' inner musing about a temple dedicated to himself, "Told me that 'despite the fact Rose Weasley just got a position there' you were going to take it."

"Maybe I just wanted another opportunity to beat her?" Which was a totally credible and entirely plausible answer.

"By what? Making more children cry than she does?"

Scorpius had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from madly exclaiming that that wasn't even a competition – Scorpius _easily_ made three times the amount of students cry that Rose did. Rose was insistent on drowning them with empathy and support. It was nauseating.

"So I made a mistake," he said instead, defensively, "Everyone makes mistakes."

His father's response was annoyingly measured, "If you hated working there you would have left by now."

"Just what are you implying?!" Scorpius snapped, standing and marching towards the bookcase as if he had suddenly remembered the purpose of his visit was not to be lectured on love by one of the most emotionally stunted men in all of England.

"I think the reason you took the job is the same reason why you've stayed for so long," there was a long pause and if Draco claimed it was for anything other than dramatic effect Scorpius would call him a liar, "To be closer to Rose."

"That's ridiculous!" Scorpius threw over his shoulder as he started pulling books from the shelf at random, incapable of reading and processing when he was being distracted by such an infuriating conversation.

"I'm not saying you've been doing it on purpose," Draco levelled, talking to his tea cup as he analysed the situation, "In fact I am sure it was mostly subconscious. I'd say your veela had a lot to do with the decision."

Scorpius dropped all the books he suspected might have useful information in them onto the floor loudly.

"My veela has been buried for the past 14 years," Drop, drop, drop, SLAM SLAM SLAM, "It had nothing to do with anything."

"The suppressant is not a cure," Draco slowed his speech until he sounded like he was talking to a small child. It was not appreciated, "It's not like you amputated it when you were 13 and it's suddenly grown back."

"Well it sure feels like it," Scorpius grumbled as he tossed more books onto the floor.

"It's a part of you Scorpius, you can't just silence it and think that will cease its existence."

"I'd very much like to try."

Draco was silent for several long, agonising moments. Scorpius knew he was waiting for him to confess his sins, as it were, and expected him to suddenly word vomit all his internalised anguish. It would appear his father underestimated just how similar the two were – Scorpius had stubbornness in spades. He would not speak until spoken to.

Draco rose, leaving him to stew in silence further, as he went to the decanter of Firewhiskey on the side table, cup of tea in hand. Draco placed the tea on the table before promptly pouring what was quite frankly a scandalous amount of alcohol into his cup, considering it was only 10:30 in the morning. His father looked at his tea contemplatively as he stirred it, the sound of the spoon against the porcelain edges of the teacup audible in the suddenly silent room.

Scorpius heard his father's deep inhaling and subconsciously braced for the impact of his forthcoming statement.

"It would not be the worst thing, perhaps," Draco said a little hesitantly, "For you and Rose to be, well, _mated_."

He almost vomited in his mouth.

" _I beg your pardon?"_ Scorpius spun quickly, incredulous that his father – _Draco Malfoy_ – would suggest that such a thing was anything but disastrous, "We've been enemies since we met!"

"You've challenged each other," he shrugged in a deliberately subtle manner, "That's not necessarily a bad thing."

" _Challenge?"_ The word was almost venom in his mouth, "I don't think we've ever engaged in a civil conversation in our lives. How am I supposed to be madly in love with someone when all we do is hurl insults at each other?"

Using the term 'madly in love' when referring to Rose Weasley was almost enough to give him an aneurysm.

"Mates aren't always who we expect," Draco's tone was measured and his volume was a completely acceptable level for the small, intimate setting. Scorpius, by comparison, was shouting like a mad man.

"How would you know? You don't have this _thing_ living inside your head!"

"You can't choose who you fall in love with Scorpius – that's the same for everyone."

"You fell in love with mother, she's not exactly the bane of your existence now is she?"

His father gave a small nod, acknowledging his son's point before continuing.

"You aren't even giving Rose a chance."

"She never gave me one!" And yes, sure, that statement sounded a touch childish; it appeared he was reverting to old mannerisms when being lectured.

"Well maybe this is a chance for you to be the bigger man."

Champion limbo submarine captain came out to perform his award-winning routine of slithering under any bar that was set for him, no matter how low.

"I don't want to be the bigger man. I am perfectly happy being the totally average sized man that I am currently."

"You're letting your fear control you."

"This isn't fear!" His exasperation was quickly descending into anger, "This is a genetic defect fucking up my mind!"

"You're afraid of her."

When she was angry and armed with a wand and far from prying eyes of their supervisors? Yes, he would be terrified of her. But the visions that had been plaguing his sleep were hardly threatening to his person. This wasn't fear; it was annoyance.

"Then why am I dreaming about her? Hmmm?" He was far too angry to stop himself from sounding hysterical. So much for coming to the manor to stop himself getting emotional, "Why was she in my mind all goddam night if I'm so fucking terrified of her? Am I afraid of her or do I love her – pick one father!"

"Who said they were mutually exclusive?"

His father was fucking stupid, just like his goddam veela.

" _Because it makes no fucking sense otherwise_."

"With your veela-"

" _Stop_ talking about my veela!" Scorpius screamed, his last nerve snapping, "It's threatened to do nothing but hold me back all my life and I just want it gone!"

Draco compensated for his son's total lack of control by pausing and allowing him to cool down for a few moments. Scorpius dragged his hand through his hair and tried to calm the itching under his skin that had been slowly intensifying as talk of Rose continued.

"See," Scorpius murmured, embarrassment coating his tone, "I told you I was more irritated than usual."

Draco hummed in agreement before downing the rest of his tea-Firewhiskey cocktail and coming to help Scorpius pick up all the books he'd thrown from the bookshelf. Scorpius fell onto one of the lounges in the study, suddenly exhausted as his head began throbbing. It was like he was getting the flu. Despite the outburst and his obvious discomfort with the conversation, his father seemed intent on continuing it.

"Being a veela is who you are, Scorpius, and who you are recognises Rose Weasley as your mate."

Scorpius let out a groan, "No. I. Don't.I don't even _like_ her!"

"No I'd say what you feel is far stronger than 'like'."

"Yes, hatred is significantly more potent," Scorpius was scowling at his father now, who had begun a slow and disinterested perusal of the bookshelf in front of him, the books previously strewn on the carpet now neatly stacked on an end table.

"Scorpius…"

"No! You don't get a say in this," he was pointing at his father now, just in case Draco was unclear he was the cause of his son's ire, "It has been made painfully clear to me since I was a child that Weasleys and Potters were to be avoided. You can't turn around now and tell me that I need to ' _give Rose a chance'_ just because I've run out of that damn potion. Once I'm able to start brewing a full potion I'll be able to forget about this whole thing."

Draco at least seemed to concede the point briefly. Right before he continued being a right prat.

"Not if she's your mate."

If he had progressed further in his encroaching veela transformation, Scorpius was very sure he would have squawked right in his father's stupid face.

" _Especially_ if she's my mate. This stupid thing in my head is demented if it thinks that Rose is The One."

He hoped his veela heard that.

Draco let out a sigh and began flipping through one of the journals he'd pulled from the shelves. It was a classic stalling technique - Scorpius had employed it many times when he was at risk of losing an argument ( _usually with Rose_ , his mind supplied incredibly unhelpfully). The older man closed the book and asked his next question without looking at his son directly.

"What did you dream of?"

Of all the things Scorpius was expecting, that wasn't one of them. "Pardon?"

"When you dreamt of Rose," his father clarified, this time turning to look at his son where he was sprawled inelegantly on the lounge, "what did you dream of?"

Scorpius blushed redder than Rose's hair. He was _not_ going to go into details with his father. Draco swallowed uncomfortably in understanding and muttered a very diplomatic, "Oh."

"Quite," Scorpius replied, tired, head-achey, and now humiliated. It was a triple threat to his self-confidence.

"Was there anything else in these dreams?" Draco questioned delicately, "Anything that wasn't of a… _carnal_ nature?"

Scorpius was going to make a pensieve, remove the memory of his conversation from his brain, store it in the pensieve, _and fucking destroy it_.

He thought of his dreams and immediately understood what his father was implying. Because as nauseating as it was to have thoughts of Rose naked running through his head, he also had to face the reality that his dreams weren't just about sex. There were portions - very large portions in fact - that seemed to just be her smiling at him. Or laughing. Or running her fingers through his hair.

Scorpius remembered how breathless she sounded when dream-Rose told him she loved him and his pants grew instantly uncomfortable. Apparently his veela's growing prominence also meant he would become victim to awkward erections again just like when he was a goddam teenager.

Just. Fucking. Great.

 _Would it be suicide or murder if he killed the veela part of his brain?_

"Yes," he eventually answered but denied going into further details. He was thankful that his father didn't pry too much.

"So the attraction isn't just physical," it was a statement as much as a question. Scorpius wanted to argue that it wasn't _even_ physical rather than _just_ physical. There was no attraction just…rivalry. He told his father so.

"We're polar opposites," Scorpius sighed, trying (and failing) to keep the anger from his tone, "We are actively repelled by each other. Whenever we're near each other the only physical urge either of us feel is the need to fight."

"Being her opposite doesn't necessarily mean you're not supposed to be mates."

Scorpius scoffed in disbelief, " _Please_ don't try to sell me that 'opposites attract' bullshit."

Draco raised an eyebrow at him - a reminder that he was speaking to his father and therefore needed to remember his manners - before sitting opposite Scorpius in an ornate armchair that didn't look at all comfortable. Like so much of the furniture in Malfoy Manor, it was supposed to say ' _look at how rich we are'_ and not necessarily ' _we hope you feel at home in our home'_.

"Mates aren't meant to be the person who will agree with you unquestionably and follow you on every whim you entertain," Draco explained with little fuss, "Mates are equals. Equality looks different depending on the scenario."

Scorpius thought of that time Rose hit him with a bat bogey hex so strong he had to be sent to St. Mungos. Funnily enough, the first word that came to mind when recounting the event was not _equality._

"It would surely help if we could at least _tolerate_ each other," he mumbled.

"Have you ever tried?" The look on his father's face indicated he knew the answer. Were all Malfoys smug? Was that a genetic defect as well or learned behaviour? God it was annoying when he wasn't the one firing it off. His empathy for Weasley and her supposedly inability to restrain herself from punching him all through school was growing with every second he spent here.

"One person willing to change does not a harmonious friendship make," Scorpius grumbled into his teacup, "I could be as sweet as pie and it wouldn't make a lick of difference if Rose isn't willing to come to the table."

"Have you invited her to the table?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"There is clearly a setting for her with her name on a little place-card - she's just choosing not to read it."

"You never chose to read your place-card - forcing you was the only way to get you to take your seat." This metaphor was getting out of control, "Maybe you need to put Rose in a similar position."

"Just so we're clear," Scorpius decided to be deliberately obtuse to get out of this conversation, "Are you officially recommending I kidnap Rose and force her to have dinner with me as a way to reconcile our differences?"

Draco looked equal parts frustrated and horrified. " _That's not what I'm saying at all_."

"Then we really need to ditch the table metaphor," Scorpius waved dismissively, "My head hurts enough as it is. This is only adding to my headache."

Scorpius got the distinct impression he was getting on his father's last nerve. It was immensely satisfying.

"Maybe you need to teach Rose how to be kind," an almost imperceivable twang of irritation rang through his words.

"Ha!" Scorpius could not contain the laugh before it burst from his mouth. His father seemed unimpressed, "Have you met me? Kindness isn't exactly my M.O."

"I've seen how you treat your mother," Draco spoke with assurance and more than a touch of arrogance, like he was boasting about his son's ability to chose not to be an asshole on occasion, "you can be very understanding when you want to be."

"Rose manages to be kind to everyone else, just not me," he sounded more hurt by that observation than he intended to.

"Show her that you deserve her kindness," his father said it like it was easy; there was nothing about interacting with Rose than was simple, and earning her kindness was a feat for superhumans. And superhuman he was not.

"I'm a half-human half-sex-obsessed-bird-thing; maybe I don't deserve her kindness?"

It wasn't until he'd voiced it that Scorpius realised that maybe that's what this all boiled down to - what he deserved. He was forever dealing with burdens he didn't deserve to carry. The burden of dragging the Malfoy name out of the mud when so many of his ancestors had abandoned it there with their bad decisions and misguided ideals. The burden of being something other than human, of facing the reality that he was different, right at his core, and that his life would always be more complicated because of it.

And then there was this latest burden - the fact that he had to consider the idea that he was soul mates with Rose Bloody Weasley. The bane of his existence. His nemesis since _always_. Where his family was shunned, hers was lauded. Where his name brought on scowls, hers brought about smiles. He wouldn't have to just prove he was good enough to Rose herself, but to the entire Wizarding World that would hear word of a Malfoy and a Weasley getting together and immediately suspect dark magic. He didn't deserve the pressure of wooing not only the woman, but everything she represented. He'd grown weary of proving himself to everyone. He'd done nothing to deserve this additional battle.

And although Scorpius didn't consider himself a bad person, and saw that Rose wasn't as pure as everyone else seemed to think, he wasn't ignorant enough to suggest that he didn't deserve Rose's ire. They had been cruel to each other - so very, very cruel - since they were ten. The fact that their fights were less cutting these days didn't detract from that. He hadn't earned her kindness. Just as she hadn't earned his. They weren't deserving of each others' best selves, not currently anyway.

And even if he wasn't a Malfoy, and she wasn't a Weasley, Scorpius didn't deserve to not get a say in who he spent the rest of his life with simply because an old family curse made him half-monster. And, despite their disagreements, he held the same belief for Rose - she didn't deserve to not get a say in who she gave her heart to. Both of them deserved better than the hand the universe had dealt them.

"Why is the idea if being veela so abhorrent to you?" Draco's frank question interrupted his musings once more. To Scorpius, the answer was incredibly simple.

"It's a curse."

"It gives you strength."

"It's a weakness."

His father scoffed at him.

"It gives you abilities regular witches and wizards would - and probably have - killed for!"

Scorpius couldn't think of a time he'd heard a claim so boldly untrue. He believed his father was a smart man, but that was just bloody stupid. He brought out his most condescending tone in all his arsenal of assholery to respond.

"Who was the last sucker that got murdered because some daft bint wanted to be able to hear people's heartbeats when they touched their skin - answer me that one."

A twitch of his eyebrows was the only definitive clue Scorpius got to alert him to his error. He'd said too much. Again.

After several moments of silence, Draco attempted a cooly disinterested tone when he asked, "When did that happen?"

Nope. Scorpius wasn't going to give him the opportunity to call him an idiot. So instead, he chose to be deliberately oppositional.

"…it doesn't matter."

"You can hear Rose's heartbeat?" His father was undeterred. The thumping in his head increased and he had to consciously stop himself from throwing something at him.

" _I said it doesn't matter,"_ his tone was gravel as he forced the words out past gritted teeth once more. Draco looked like he was similarly tempted to throw something at his son.

"How can you possibly be trying to fight this?" He sounded just as exasperated as Scorpius felt, which he thought was entirely unjustified - Draco didn't get to be fed up with this situation, it wasn't like it was impacting him directly. Scorpius, on the other hand, just found out he had an avian curse that meant he wanted to shag his greatest rival. He was considerably more hard done by. Draco continued regardless of his son's scowl.

"Three days without a proper potion and you're already feeling drawn to Rose and dreaming of her and _hearing her heart beat_. Merlin, isn't it obvious you can't fight this?"

"You assume I'm the only one that'll fight it!" Scorpius snapped and instantly regretted it. He kept his heart well guarded like a very dangerous beast. He had just allowed his father an access-all areas viewing, however brief it was. And that was a very foolish thing to do.

"What do you mean?" The older man's tone was gentle and inquisitive, but bade no room for dismissal. They would have this conversation, whether he liked it or not.

Scorpius struggled to put what he was feeling into words. Namely because it was exactly that - _feelings_. He wasn't good at those. This entire exchange with his father had been the most open discussion he'd ever had with _anyone_ about his emotions and inner turmoil. It wasn't comfortable, it didn't lift a weight from his shoulders. All it did was make him feel even more entrapped by his own mind. However, he knew his father's tenacity matched his own, and he knew he wouldn't let this go. So Scorpius did his best to describe how he was feeling without giving too much away. He kept his tone light, his movements subtle, and tried desperately to stop his voice from wavering as he spoke.

"The key thing you're forgetting in all of this, Father, is that it's not just a matter of me deciding to love Rose; she's got to pick me. And after almost two decades of animosity and thinly veiled attempts at driving each other mad, I don't think there's anything I can say or do that is going to convince her to love me."

Draco eyed him critically, seemingly trying to literally see through his skull and into his mind.

 _Good luck, I'm quite certain I've lost it during this conversation. I have no mind for you to fossick through; you should have tried before you grilled me for 30 minutes about the possibility that I'm destined to fall in love with Rose Fucking Weasley._

"You're underestimating yourself," Draco said finally, his voice even and confident.

"I know Rose," he stated with little emotion. Because it wasn't an emotional statement - that was simply a fact. And that was horrifying. The itching under his skin intensified and he was sorely tempted to start shedding layers of his clothing and skin if necessary to escape the suffocating feeling taking over him.

"She's not just Rose though - she's your mate." His father kept throwing that word around like either of them could really comprehend what it meant. Scorpius let out a disgruntled breath and dragged his hand through his unkempt hair once more.

"That doesn't change anything."

"That changes _everything,"_ Draco implored, "She will feel things similar to you."

"She isn't being controlled by a _fucking bird-brain_."

His father let out a heavy sigh, as if Scorpius stating the obvious was becoming tiresome. Well excuse him for having an existential crisis of mammoth proportions. How very inconsiderate to not be instantly ok with the bloody tragedy his life had become.

"Veelas are intelligent and highly emotional creatures," his father contended, Scorpius begged to differ, "She wouldn't be your chosen one if you didn't have a chance."

"Maybe my veela is high?" Scorpius attempted not to sound as desperate as he felt when he reasoned with his father, "Maybe years of suppressants has turned its brain to mush? Maybe my veela is the exception and is just fucking stupid. Maybe it's a masochist."

"All Malfoys are to an extent," his father shrugged and Scorpius fought the mental image of his father in bondage. He wanted to burn out his eyes, "We're also very charming - you can be too, when you put your mind to it."

"You have an unmatched gift for turning what should be a compliment into an insult," his face slid into one of an emotionless slate, "I'm very envious."

Draco ignored his quip, "What I'm saying, Scorpius, is that if you just accept this for what it is and try to make the most of it, you may just be surprised with how Miss. Weasley responds."

He kind of detested that fact his father was calling her Miss. Weasley. It was too formal but too familiar at the same time. He spoke of her like he knew her. And he didn't - his father had no fucking clue the kind of person Rose Weasley was.

Scorpius did.

He knew what foods made her vomit just at their smell (Brussel sprouts and steamed cabbage, which he had been known to hide in her office when she had annoyed him), what Quidditch team she followed (The Chudley Cannons, just like her father, but she had a soft spot for the Hollyhead Harpies), and which constellation was her favourite (Pyxis - the navigator's compass).

Oh Merlin, _he did know her_.

 _When the fuck had that happened?!_

He buried his anxiety at the realisation he had been unconsciously storing information about Rose for years by making another jibe.

"Or I could end up with my teeth kicked in. The latter seems infinitely more likely."

The older man shrugged, "Maybe that's a risk you need to be willing to take."

"That's an easy call to make when it isn't your teeth," he challenged.

"I just want to see you happy, Scorpius," Draco did his best imitation of concern and empathy by trying to mirror what Astoria would say in this situation, "And a male veela without it's mate will be a miserable cad."

"So instead you want me to be a content cad like you?" He asked lightly.

His father smiled at him.

"Precisely."

Scorpius really just didn't want to have to deal with this at all. He just wanted to continue taking his potion and ignore the fact that he wasn't, in the strictest sense of the word, completely human. He didn't want to face the truth of the matter, didn't want to think about what unleashing his veela meant - that there were elements of his life that were fundamentally out of his control. This was just another portion of his existence that was cursed by his ancestors, more walls built to prevent him from succeeding because he was A Malfoy. So, just like the prejudice and reputation he had battled throughout his youth, he could only attempt to defeat it with his intelligence and hard work. His potion had done that for years, now he would have to resort to fishing through endless journal entries and ancient resources to find some other way of keeping this all under control.

Maybe then, when he wasn't at the mercy of his inner monster, Scorpius would contemplate the possibility of pursuing Rose as a mate. But it was unlikely. And it definitely wasn't happening until after he could get better control of himself. However, in the spirit of appeasing his father, he announced slightly different intentions.

"I'm still going to look for ways to break the bond," he announced to the room, but he was calmer when he spoke now, and it sounded less like the mindless ramblings of a madman as it had from the moment he'd stepped out of the floo, "But in the - admittedly, very likely - event that it proves unsuccessful…"

Speaking the next words aloud was more painful than pulling teeth. His father's silence was oddly encouraging instead of unsettling for once.

"Then I guess I could…contemplate the possibility…of seeking out Rose," Scorpius finished lamely, mortified that he even voiced the prospect let alone entertain the possibility of following through on it. It provided him with some semblance of satisfaction that his father gave him a tight smile in response. He was happy for him, but Scorpius had the sneaking suspicion that the older man had just realised, should the situation be what Scorpius feared, he would have to make nice with Ron and Hermione Weasley.

That in itself was almost enough for him to chase Rose.

Draco flicked his wand and summoned the decanter of Firewhiskey and two fresh glasses from the corner. He plucked the decanter from the air and poured the amber coloured liquid into both glasses before motioning one to Scorpius.

"Are we celebrating or commiserating?" He asked as he caught the glass delicately, ignoring the implications of drinking hard liquor before midday and how that was generally frowned upon.

His father was silent and contemplative for several long minutes as he looked at the liquid swirling in his own glass. After several long minutes he let out a sigh and raised his glass.

"Pick one."

They both threw back their platinum blonde heads as they polished off the entire contents of their glasses in one go. And when Scorpius proposed another immediately after, his father agreed without question. Merlin knows they'd need it.

* * *

 _I've had to upload in a different format than usual so if the formatting is a bit whack I apologise!_

 _Hope you all enjoyed. More Rose-Scorpius banter to be included in the next chappie. Hope you all have a lovely day. Shine on you crazy diamonds xo_


	4. Chapter 4

_What's this? An update so quickly?! What is this sorcery?!_

 _I enjoyed writing Draco/Scorpius banter that this chapter basically wrote itself. I hope you all enjoy it too! Thanks for all you wonderful folks reviewing – I'd love to hear what you like most about the story (or my others) so I can try and incorporate the elements into it a bit better. This is basically just developing Rose and Scorpius' relationship a bit more and giving us a clue at where things will head. That said, the next chapter isn't even started yet so don't expect a quick turn around on the next one._

 _Apologies if there's bulk typos – the new program I'm using thinks it's smarter than I am and does weird autocorrecting. I have tried to read through it and catch them all, but sometimes I miss them. My bad._

 _All my love to you all. I hope you're all having a lovely November (or as I refer to it, Halloween-Hangover Month)._

* * *

 **Chapter 4: A (Not So) Empty Nest**

Despite his plans to stay the day there, Scorpius decided he would take a selection of books from Malfoy Manor and study them back at Hogwarts. He had one very clear, very simple reason for doing so - he didn't want to be at The Manor when his mother returned. If his father, the emotionless statue that was Draco Malfoy, was supportive to the point of forceful at the prospect of him developing a relationship with Rose Weasley, then his hopeless romantic of a mother would basically start planning a wedding. Knowing the infallible Astoria Malfoy, she'd show up unannounced at Hogwarts with baby albums and gift Rose with jewels and basinets. She had always been a tad over-the-top when it came to Scorpius' love life (he shuddered at the memory of the 'congratulatory howler' she'd sent him when he started dating Myfanwy Branwell in fifth year. He almost hadn't heard all of it Weasley was cackling so loud. Suffice to say his mother had not been privy to any other developments in his love life since). On the off-chance that he did pursue this thing with Rose, he didn't need his mother interfering and scaring her off. Yes, it was best he was back at Hogwarts before Astoria returned from brunch.

Arms filled with tomes and journals, Scorpius flooed back into his living quarters, instantly feeling less anxious when he stepped out of the fireplace and into his private living room. The prickling under his skin was gone, the headache instantly dissipated, his nausea evaporated as soon as he stepped foot in his lounge room. He thought all of his symptoms disappeared due to the reduced stress now he wasn't near his father and his inane questioning.

His optimism was laughably misplaced.

"Neville says you're sick."

Rose Weasley's voice rang out through his living room, penetrating his eardrums and sending a shock wave through his body. He was so startled he dropped every book he was holding and let out a particularly unsavoury curse. When he spun to face her where she was perched on the arm of his couch, she seemed unphased by his behaviour, only curious.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"

She ignored him. "Did you see Pomfrey? Has she diagnosed you?"

He ignored her right back. "How did you get in here?"

"Your crappy charms work was easy to crack," she said it with a dismissive shrug of her shoulder, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His charms weren't _that_ bad. She'd probably blown up his door to get into his living room.

( _Something beneath his skin bristled at the sight of her in his room. It crept towards the surface, not yet strong enough to force itself forward, but intent on getting closer all the same_ )

"So," she stood and crossed her arms, eyeing him up and down, "What have you got?"

 _An incurable need to mate with you apparently._

That was exactly what he didn't say. He thought about his recent decision to potentially pursue Rose, and how now would be the perfect time to start mending all those burnt bridges by offering her some tea, thanking her for her concern, and enquiring about how her class went last night. Now was as good a time as ever to start wooing her, just in case he couldn't break the bond. He cleared his throat to answer thoughtfully.

"None of your damn business."

Well. Old habits die hard.

"Is it Dragon Pox?" she continued, completely unbothered by his rude response, "I need to know if you've infected me."

"Go and see Pomfrey yourself if you're so concerned," although his earlier symptoms were subsiding, others were developing. For instance, he felt his temperature rising, his heart rate got a little quicker, and his hands were twitching with the need to reach out to her.

Basically, he was losing his goddam mind. And he really didn't need Weasley witnessing it.

"I want to hear it from you first," Rose stood from where she had been perched on the sofa armrest, crossing her arms and glaring at him across the (far too small) room.

"What possible reason could you have for that?" he spat in response as he bent to pick up his dropped possessions in as indignant a manner as possible.

"Because if you've given me Dragon Pox," she straightened, a wicked glint in her eyes that he was wise enough to be weary of, "I want my first act as a dying woman to be hexing you senseless."

Scorpius rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, justifying that if he put her out her misery he may, by some miracle, manage to put himself out of his misery as well by making her leave.

"It's not Dragon Pox," he relented. Rose smiled in satisfaction at his answer then, in the next moment, grimaced at him in disgust.

"It's a sex-thing isn't it?"

He dropped the book he was stacking and almost choked on his tongue.

Scorpius really didn't need Rose Weasley saying the word 'sex' around him; it brought on a bombardment of images from his dreams the night before. And he'd had one too many tea-Firewhiskeys with his father to be able to deal with that like a sane person. Not to mention the fact she thought he had a weird STI was just insulting.

But then, technically speaking, it wasn't _not_ a sex thing.

"Do you honestly have nothing better to do but harass me?" he said instead, moving towards the writing desk in the corner to deposit his large collection of books and journals, trying to face them in a way that Rose wouldn't be able to read the titles of any of them.

"Oh it _is_ a sex thing," she faked concern and sympathy quite terribly.

He sighed, turning to mirror her by crossing his arms and standing about seven feet from her, "Why are you so obsessed with me?"

"Is it contagious?" Rose just seemed intent on ignoring him this morning. Why did she even bother asking him questions if she was going to ignore his answers. He needed to throw her off balance just like she did by breaking into his goddam quarters.

"Why would that concern you?" He smirked at her, "Planning on having sex with me Weasley?"

She flushed scarlet and shut her mouth. Well, well, well, how interesting.

"Propositioning you also makes you flustered," Scorpius leered at her, feeling like himself again for the first time all day. It gave him a renewed energy and he buzzed with excitement at the prospect of verbally sparring with Rose now that he knew he was winning, "That's two new strategies in as many days. Better be careful Weasley, our little war will finally be over if this continues, and you shan't be victorious."

"I'm not flustered," she counted with a jut of her hip, resting it against her previously abandoned armrest, "I'm repulsed by the thought of it."

"Ah, so you _have_ thought about it?" he levelled his signature smirk (the same one that his father had aggravated him with all morning) at her and did his best impression of 'bedroom eyes' as his voice dropped half an octave, "I can assure you, whatever you've imagined me doing, I'll be even better."

Wait.

Was this arguing? Or flirting?

Holy shit was he flirting with Rose? _Had he always been flirting with Rose?!_

No, no, they definitely haven't been flirting their whole lives. He was genuinely angry with her a lot, especially in their youth.

 _So when did that change? HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN FLIRTING WITH ROSE?_

Merlin Almighty he needed to sit down.

Rose's very undignified snort brought him back to the moment.

"Seeing as the entirety of my fantasies involving you consist of me pushing you off the roof of the Astronomy Tower, you're not exactly clearing a high bar."

"Sex under the stars fantasy - I'll make a mental note."

She was unimpressed with his quick retort, "This constitutes sexual harassment."

"Yes, as does enquiring as to my sexual health, not to mention you've broken any number of regulations by _forcing entry_ into my quarters," Scorpius gave her a condescending smile, knowing he had won, "Do you really want this interaction reported?"

She muttered under her breath but relented. For a grand total of four seconds.

"So you never answered my question," she started.

"That's probably because I don't want to," he interrupted.

"What have you got?"

She was nothing if not persistent.

"Nothing contagious."

"Are you going to die?"

He choked on his own tongue at her abrupt delivery.

" _What?_ "

"Because if you are, I need to know."

"Prepping my eulogy, Weasley?" he asked sardonically.

"Organising catering for the celebrations," Rose replied, a touch too rigid to be truly in jest.

"Do me a favour and ban all the children, will you?" Scorpius was surprised at how tired he sounded, and avoided eye contact with her by polishing the pocket watch he usually kept tucked in his breast pocket, "I can't stomach the thought of students _enjoying_ themselves. Consider it my dying wish."

Rose was silent, which was a first. It unsettled him. Scorpius looked up to see where she stood strangely in the centre of the room. She actually looked concerned.

"Weasley?"

" _You're not actually going to die are you_?" She said it quickly, all her words blurring together so quickly that it took him a few moments to process what she'd said.

"Well, yes, eventually," he reasoned, pushing down the warm pooling in his stomach that spread through him like wildfire at the thought of her actually worrying about him, "But of the current… _illness_ , I have? No. It's not going to kill me."

He watched her shoulders lower as the tension visibly left her, the steady exhale she let out seemingly deflating her whole body. She wasn't quite done though, and followed quickly with more inane questions.

"So you're not feeling vomit-y still?" as soon as she asked one question she'd follow with another so he couldn't actually provide her an answer, "And you're standing unassisted? That's a pretty drastic improvement. I trust you haven't got any plans to go flying again like a giant idiot, right?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes before pasting on a condescending smile, "You know, I hadn't but now that you've mentioned it, it does sound like fun."

"Even if you weren't sick, getting on a broom after taking a sleeping draught is just fucking stupid. Even for you."

Scorpius thought about how he almost died ( _in his pyjamas!_ ) by flying into the side of the Astronomy Tower last night and, begrudgingly, had to agree with her. He was trying to think of something to bite back at her - something along the lines of 'if you've just come here to yell at me, you can leave' - when he paused to think. Why was Rose here? She'd done nothing but quiz him about his illness, but had lingered on with further questions which clearly weren't just about keeping herself free from whatever he had. When Scorpius found himself at an astonishing conclusion, he almost didn't believe it.

"Wait are you…checking up on me?"

She bristled and bit down on the inside of her cheek. "Don't read into it."

That was not a denial.

Well this changed everything.

"You are!" His face almost broke he was smiling so wide. This was the ultimate win - Rose Weasley _cared_. He had defeated her, "Rose Weasley is concerned for my wellbeing! Well I never!"

"Of course I'm concerned for your wellbeing!" she shrieked, which was not at all appreciated given the closed quarters they found themselves in, "You crashed into my classroom last night and started acting crazy! You almost threw up like 20 times, admitted to flying after taking a sleeping draught, then you _jumped out a window_ into total darkness so I couldn't see if you'd fallen to your death or not, and this morning you're on leave but you're not in the Hospital Wing! Of course I was worried - I thought you'd finally gone insane and were going to start murdering people. Namely me."

Scorpius stayed silent for several long moments while he processed a very important part of her little outburst.

"You went to visit me at the hospital wing?" he couldn't stop himself from smiling if he tried.

Mistaking his smile and tone for mocking her, Rose levelled him with a flat stare and fixed her hand to her hip in a gesture he had long come to recognise as ' _don't sass me, boy'_. Which, coincidentally, was basically guaranteed to trigger his 'Sass Rose Relentlessly' protocol.

"I had to make sure you didn't have a note in your pocket saying 'Rose did it' to get me locked up," she justified.

"Don't be silly Weasley, I'd never do anything like that," he gazed dramatically into the distance, "I'd paint it on the walls in big red letters, and I'd refer to you as something more personal than Rose. Something like 'the hydra'. Or 'she-beast'."

"Still a prat - mustn't be dying after all."

"No more than anyone is, I suppose," he beamed at her, still elated that he'd caused her so much turmoil, "But rest easy Weasley; if I do die I'll be sure to haunt you forever so we can continue these little spats. I know how much you enjoy them."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't enjoy anything about your company, Malfoy."

He smiled at her cheekily, "You're adorable when you're lying."

"I don't lie to you," she said with very fake cheerfulness, "I'm nothing but truthful. Like last week when I told you your bun made you look like an older, less attractive Minerva McGonagall - complete truth."

Scorpius physically restrained himself from acting on his instinct and tightening his bun in an old self-conscious tick. Rose was just trying to get a rise out of him. He didn't look like a geriatric woman. His hair was marvellous. Shiny, even.

There was no fucking way Rose Weasley was his mate. His mate would never insult his hair. They would worship it.

"Are you sure you want to be bringing up _hair_ , Weasley? Because I'm not sure that's a battle you can win."

"Merlin you're impossible."

"Yes and very much alive, but thanks for the concern all the same. You can sleep peacefully knowing I will continue to give your life meaning."

Scorpius was smiling at her still, which he should probably stop because he didn't do that sort of thing usually. But then he noticed that Rose was smiling at him too – even if it was clearly sarcastic – so maybe thy could get away with it this one time.

"I suppose if you died it would free up my nightly schedule by eliminating the 'plot to kill Malfoy' portion of my evenings," she spoke as if talking to herself, "Don't know what I'd do with all that extra time. Maybe take up a new hobby?"

"Did you just confess to thinking about me late at night?" his voice had gotten lower and he honestly couldn't tell if he was teasing or genuinely curious.

"Maybe my new hobby could be knife-throwing," the statement was a thinly veiled threat, "I can think of several practical applications of that skillset."

"Now, now, Weasley, I think there are several different hobbies that would be more beneficial for you and make you a more well-rounded human," Scorpius' attempts at being sincere were woeful, but that just added to the general impression he was trying to give off, "Perhaps you could take up knitting so you could make sweaters for all those hundreds of cats you'll own when you're older. Or maybe you could practice the ancient Tibetan art of 'shutting the fuck up' from time to time. I strongly encourage the latter."

He walked towards his small kitchen area off the lounge room, suddenly feeling the very strong urge to make a cup of tea and escape Rose's immediate vicinity. Smelling her perfume was doing strange things to his senses.

"Referencing Tibetan monks?" Rose 'tsked' at him, walking towards the centre of the room so she could still see him through the doorway of the kitchen (probably checking he wasn't arming himself), "What would your grandfather say if he heard you sprouting so many facts from Muggle Studies?"

"Know thy enemy, Weasley," he smiled tightly at her while he flicked his wand at his set of fine china and the kettle to begin it boiling.

"By the smell of you I assumed your enemy was soap."

"Peasants use soap; Malfoys use the tears of our underlings."

"I wasn't aware fleas could cry," she sounded almost bewildered.

"I'm not surprised you've never witnessed it - overlords don't show emotions in front of their inferiors," he levitated the china onto a tray and, without thinking about it, called out "Tea?"

Rose's next response was cut off as she froze to look at him strangely. He realised too late that this was incredibly out of character for him, just as it had been for her last night. However, showing her he was shocked and appalled by his own actions would show weakness and admit defeat, and he outright refused to give Weasley an inch more space inside his world than necessary. He had only just started winning this war, he wasn't going to let a little thing like offering her tea spoil it for him. So instead he acted like it was part of his grand plan to intimidate her - that it was deliberate to put her off her game.

It apparently worked, because Rose nodded once and muttered a whispered, "Um, yeah…thanks."

Scorpius would kick himself in the gut if he could. Now she'd linger around in his living quarters even longer. He hadn't thought this through at all.

Rose stood awkwardly in the middle of his living room, her cream robes a stark contrast to the blacks and silvers of his interior. He took a moment to properly look at her as she stood there, self-consciously tugging on a sleeve and surveying the room cautiously, as if looking for traps. He couldn't blame her. She was probably expecting that he'd sunk to her level and hidden portkeys everywhere. He was far above that.

That said, he was tempted to put ink in her tea.

Scorpius didn't know what to make of Rose Weasley. He had never thought of her as attractive. Possibly because he had never allowed himself to. Now, eyeing her through the doorway, he could see why _some people_ (not him) would find her visibly…passable. Her robes were clearly made by Twilflitt and Tattings, that he could tell even from this distance. They were cream with soft gold detailing, over a baby blue dress underneath that looked impossibly soft. The robes were synched at her waist to give her definition, and the long sleeves fell dramatically almost to the floor. She didn't wear a hat, at least not today, instead opting to have her ridiculous abundance of red curly hair exploding down her back in a flurry of curls and waves. As much as he continued to tease her for the mess that sprung from her head, he could begrudgingly accept that it wasn't as unruly or frizzy as it once had been. She'd grown into it a little. A very little. Now it at least looked like hair, not as if she was being swallowed head-first by an auburn tumbleweed.

And then there was her face.

She had one.

And he supposed it was bearable to look at.

Her freckles had lightened from when they were children, but were still defined in a messy smattering across her nose and cheeks. She was pale – but not _Malfoy_ pale, which basically defied the colour spectrum - and her skin tone was reasonably even when not inflamed from yelling at him. She had high cheek bones and a bone structure that the Malfoy family portrait artist would probably describe as 'desirable'. Her lips were…

Well, look at that.

Weasley had lips.

He's not sure he ever noticed them before.

Obviously she'd always had them. If she didn't, he'd certainly have noticed earlier (and probably teased her about it relentlessly).

But now he's consciously noticing them for the first time.

He's not sure he can stop noticing them.

Have they always been so…appealing? So…soft-looking?

He wants to touch them.

He wants to touch Rose's lips.

With his lips.

 _ABANDON SHIP! MAY DAY! MAY DAY!_

Ok, he wouldn't look at Weasley's lips anymore.

…Maybe just once more…

NOOOOOOOOPE. Needed to look at something else right fucking now!

Scorpius shifted his attention to her eyes instead. Merlin Almighty they were blue. Had they always been that blue? He didn't think so; surely he would have noticed if they'd been that blue all the time. No, there's no way they'd always been that colour. Maybe she'd charmed them to appear brighter and more beautiful than what they naturally were. If he had to name the colour, he'd call it 'Cobalt'. It was a deeper hue than the Ravenclaw students wore, and more crystal clear than the Great Lake. Framed by eyelashes that rivalled his for length, Rose Weasley had bloody beautiful eyes.

And they were staring right at him.

How long had she been staring at him?

How long had he been staring at her?

Shit.

And now she was talking to him.

Fuck.

He needed to cover his tracks - Rose couldn't know he'd been creepily staring at her for an embarrassingly long amount of time. How was he going to get out of this one? Guess he had to rely on his oldest technique; annoy her.

"You'll have to repeat that, Weasley," Scorpius said as he turned back to watch over the tea that was currently making itself, "I was distracted trying to imagine what you'd look like if you were a full-blooded human and not a witch-orangutan hybrid."

She let out several mutterings that Scorpius couldn't decipher but guessed included a nice arrangement of four-letter words. With the tea brewed, he levitated it ahead of him into the living room and towards the sitting area in the corner opposite his writing desk. Rose was still standing in the middle of the room awkwardly, shifting her weight from foot to foot at an apparent loss for what she was supposed to be doing. Scorpius gestured dramatically to the two chairs and table in the corner.

"Do take a seat," he said as the tea set itself on the table, "I'm not sure how you hicks do it, but we civilised folk like to sit down when we have our tea."

More four-letter word mutterings. She stomped to the table, shaking the delicate china where it sat, before falling into her seat with about as much grace as a troll. He was tempted to comment on it, however, given he'd so far successfully avoided being hexed, he thought he wouldn't tempt the fates. Scorpius made a show of sitting down delicately with no noise or fuss, which earned him an exaggerated eye roll in response.

Rose's hand sat on the edge of the table and something about the piece of furniture caught her attention.

"Wait. Is this… _mahogany_?!" She exclaimed, knocking the wood for good measure and running her hands along it in a manner that was very distracting, "How did you get a mahogany table?!"

"Oh this old thing?" He gestured to it dismissively and shrugged nonchalantly, "It was here when I arrived. Do you not have one? Guess Longbottom just likes me more than you."

She levelled him with a look that clearly indicated she knew he was talking shit.

"You shrunk one from your parents' place to bring with you, didn't you?" she accused.

Shit.

"…no."

Rose scoffed and added a cube of sugar to her tea, "What, is eating off regular old oak too common for you?"

He choked on his own spit he was so horrified. His compnaion looked at him with apprehension disguising genuine concern.

" _You eat off oak?!"_ Scorpius exclaimed somewhat erratically. If he had to fathom a guess, he'd bet Rose was physically restraining herself from slapping him. Not that he could worry about a little thing like that with this most recent development.

"Oh for fuck's sake…" she muttered under her breath and added another cube of sugar. Scorpius continued.

" _I wouldn't let a stray dog eat off oak!"_

"You're so dramatic."

" _I wouldn't let worms eat off oak!"_

"This is why people don't like you."

" _I wouldn't let my mother's demon-birds eat off oak!"_

Rose paused and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, "Your mother has demon birds?"

"Yes," he responded, thinking of fucking Hector the Horrible on the prowl for a small child to feast on. Her eyebrow remained raised.

"I thought she kept peacocks."

(He would store this little nugget of information in his mind to mull over at a more convenient time - say, right when he was trying to sleep on the eve of a significant occasion. He would remember her little throw away comment and would analyse it to the point of madness. He would think of her tone and try to ascertain what this meant. For although he didn't notice it during this conversation, the reason this was so significant, he would one day. One day, Scorpius would think of this exchange, and he would realise that it was entirely possible Rose had been keeping little secret bits of information about him locked away as he had been doing for her. And surely that had to mean something. But for today, he didn't pay it any mind.)

"As I said," he reiterated, glaring off into the distance, " _demon-birds_."

Their conversation paused as they both took sips from their respective cups of tea. He noticed that Rose was eyeing her tea critically for any signs of tampering. He tried not to take it as a compliment.

"No need to be worried, Weasley," he said with an overtly fake smile, "I haven't poisoned you."

She took a tiny sip.

"Yet," he added. She glared at him a bit harder but continued to drink.

The silence was deafening, and Scorpius was finding himself feeling jittery again. There seemed to be a very fine line to walk when it came to being in close proximity to Rose Weasley - too far away and he started breaking out in sweats and getting headaches, too close to her and his hands wanted to shake and his heart rate kicked up several notches. He was currently experiencing the latter and was not impressed at all. Just another reason why he shouldn't have offered her tea.

"You missed the staff meeting this morning," Rose's inability to be quiet was actually a godsend in this scenario and he welcomed her abrupt attempt at conversation.

"I'm aware," he supplied, adding milk to his tea and letting the spoon stir itself to combine, "Anything of particular importance I should be aware of?"

He was willing to bet not; the staff meetings were largely pointless in Scorpius' opinion. If anything concerned him, he was told by the Headmaster directly. He had absolutely no compulsion to know what was going on in everyone else's boring little lives.

Besides, when Rose had her late night classes she didn't usually go to staff meetings, which meant Scorpius had no reason to go because he didn't have the opportunity to bother her. Which made her presence at this morning's gathering interesting.

Fleetingly, he entertained the thought that maybe she went just to see him. But even if that was the case it was probably because she thought he might be homicidal if her previous statements were anything to go by. And that wasn't exactly reassuring.

( _Something in his gut still fluttered at the idea of her seeking him out. Something primal. Something resting. Something that became a little more alive at the prospect)_

"The Triwizard Tournament is going ahead," Rose announced it in a tone that suggested Scorpius should be surprised. He wasn't. The schools involved had been discussing it for years, and everyone seemed to be of the general consensus that it would be a positive thing to host the tournament again to show that the Wizarding World had moved well and truly beyond Voldemort's rule. That the darkness of the past would not dampen the light of the future.

Plus, what better time to host it then when Neville Longbottom, war hero and all around herbology badass, was Headmaster of Hogwarts and therefore a judge in the tournament? It all made a lot of sense to Scorpius; other professors had still argued it was too soon. Because apparently 40 years wasn't long enough to wait.

"I thought it would," he commented as he sipped his tea, "Has the starting date been confirmed?"

"It'll be taking place in December," Rose answered with little emotion, "We're hosting."

Great. The school would be inundated with more idiot children. Only this time they'd be idiots who spoke French or Ukrainian or Russian or some other dialect he hadn't an interest in mastering. Oh joy. It sounded just as fun as having a rectal exam. Scorpius started mentally preparing excuses as to why he wouldn't be available to welcome visiting teachers and students. At the top of that list was ' _because I don't fucking want to'_. He had a sneaking suspicion that would not be deemed a credible reason for avoiding painful social functions.

Maybe requesting a transfer to Ilvermorny could kill two birds with one stone. One of those birds being his veela.

"What fun," Scorpius droned sarcastically, "The students will be even less attentive than usual."

" _My_ students are always very attentive," Rose boasted with a smug smile, "Maybe it says more about your teaching methods than the students' attention spans."

He levelled her with a false smile.

"No one's ever fallen asleep in my class," he countered and she had the decency to look a little put-out.

"That only happens with first years," Weasley defended with more passion than was probably required, "They get tired easily, especially at the start of the year."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Weasley," he shot her a wicked glint. If Scorpius didn't know better, he'd say that she growled at him in response. ( _And something deep inside of him growled back)._ Wisely anticipating that upsetting a Weasley wielding boiling liquid put him in a dangerous predicament, he returned to the original topic, "Any idea who the Hogwarts champion will be?"

"Neave Fitzsimmons," Rose answered confidently without hesitation before explaining her choice, "She's Gryffindor's best chaser so she'll be great in any aerial challenge, she's smart as a whip, and she's got a competitive edge that will make her hungry for the win."

She smiled smugly at him, believing her arguments sound and thorough. Scorpius, not at all surprisingly, disagreed.

"Neave is too hot-headed," he countered, "Her opponents will get in her head and her judgement will be clouded."

Rose opened her mouth to counter his arguments but he continued without giving her the option to interrupt him.

"Our best shot is Wesley Blackburn," Scorpius stated boldly. Rose screwed up her face in response.

"Wesley Blackburn? The quiet charms prodigy?" She scoffed, thoroughly unconvinced, "No way will he make it. He's strong in one area, that's not enough to win him the tournament, or even beat out other Hogwarts students."

Oh he did enjoy proving her wrong.

"Don't be so quick to judge," Scorpius chided, "Wes is a quiet achiever and a master strategist. He could beat most of the professors in chess by the time he hit third year, and the only reason you don't know more about him is because that's exactly how he wants it to be. He says nothing in class but aces every assessment. He's brilliant and he's cunning, and criminally underrated. Which is precisely why he'll not only be our champion, but the overall winner."

Rose shook her head defiantly and Scorpius did his best not to get distracted by how pretty her hair looked when it danced with her movements.

 _Holy shit, this veela thing was really screwing with his brain._

"The champion needs to be able to handle a broom - I've never even seen Blackburn fly," she argued.

"Doesn't mean he's incapable," Scorpius justified. Rose sipped her tea and shook her head.

"It'll be Neave," there was not a doubt in her mind she had made the right prediction. Scorpius, seeing an opportunity for personal gain and refusing to pass it up, leant back in his chair and clasped his hands together under his chin. Rose's movements became slower as her hackles metaphorically rose - she could see he was planning and she was ready to respond.

And he _didn't_ find it attractive. At all.

"Care to make a wager, Weasley?" he asked conspiratorially, enjoying the way a sly smile mirroring his own slid up her face.

"What're the stakes?" she asked.

Scorpius considered implementing any number of requests. He could demand she destroy all her portkeys, for real this time. He could make her announce at the end of year assembly that he is a far superior professor than she would ever be. He could make her parade around the halls decked out entirely in Slytherin gear for a week.

( _He could ask her to have him in any way she wanted. He could ask her to accept him just as he was)_

 _SHUT UP BIRD BRAIN!_

"Twenty galleons," he announced knowing she was good for it (he'd once witnessed her buy every single copy of a Limited Edition Potions Encyclopaedia just to prevent him from getting a copy) and figuring that monetary collateral was a nice safe option. She beamed at him.

"Deal!" Rose thrust her hand forward for him to shake. He hesitated, thinking about the last time he touched her skin. He didn't need the total inconvenience of hearing Weasley's heartbeat echoing in his head again. That said, last night he was very unwell. Maybe this could be a test; maybe he could see if it was an isolated incident that he had miraculously recovered from. Scorpius gently took Rose's hand.

The regret was immediate.

Tingles shot through his fingertips, finding each of his veins and spiraling through the tissue beneath his skin all the way up his arm. He felt spindles of electricity fire up his neck and down his spine causing him to shiver involuntarily. His heart rate quickened, his mouth went dry, and something deep at the pit of his stomach warmed and shifted, climbing up his oesophagus towards his throat, reaching for freedom. He was swept up in a momentary euphoria so cleansing that he wanted to sit in this moment of contentment and happiness forever.

The entire experience lasted maybe three seconds but that was enough time for him to realise the truth of the matter:

He was royally fucked.

Scorpius let go of her hand as quickly as possible, withdrawing and clasping his tea cup in both hands to prevent them from shaking. He didn't feel the warmth of the cup beneath the lingering tingles. It was like he'd been shocked, but in a good way. Which made no fucking sense.

He really needed to break the bond.

It was disappointing, he thought momentarily, that his body's response to Rose's touch had ruined the moment. Before the awkward handshake they had actually managed to speak almost kindly to one another and not threaten each other while they drank their tea. The thought was so startling, in fact, that Scorpius was apparently inept at keeping his disbelief from his face.

"What's that look for?" Rose demanded indignantly, body tensing and prepping for a fight. He shook his head to return to the present and pull himself out of his weird little day dream.

"What look?" He defended with equal indignation.

"That look you're doing now?" She pointed to the space between his eyebrows that was crinkled and he preyed it wasn't also lined with sweat following the hand-holding phenomenon, "What's going on with your face? Are you having a stroke? _Is this dragon pox?!_ "

He rolled his eyes and batted her hand out of his face. "What is it with you and dragon pox?"

"What is it with you and medically malfunctioning?"

Well. She had him there. He was tempted to tell her to take it up with whichever one of his ancestors pissed off a very powerful sorcerer or veela because this mess certainly wasn't his doing. But there was probably little to no point in that.

"There's nothing wrong with me," he said, like the liar he was. He reconciled that it was technically true-ish given the circumstances, for his genetic malfunctioning was not the cause of his current bafflement, "I'm just…confused."

"By what?"

"By this," he gestured between them, waiting for her to catch his meaning. She didn't. "I think…I think we just had a civil conversation?"

Rose blinked at him a total of three times while she considered his statement.

"We just entered into a very juvenile bet that hints at both of us having gambling problems," she rectified.

"Yes, but it was civil."

Rose was silent as the significant deviation from their regular interactions became apparent in her mind.

"Is this…" he paused, genuinely unsure of what to call it, "progress?"

Rose looked around them, taking in the tea set, their positions opposite each other at the small table, and the open way they were holding themselves. An outsider, with absolutely no knowledge of their families' feuds or their own personal vendettas against each other, might even guess they were… _friendly_. (Although where you would find a person who wouldn't know about the Weasley-Grangers and the Malfoys was beyond him. Maybe under a rock…in the Mariana Trench?).

"What are we progressing towards?" she asked the question as if she was afraid of the response. He couldn't blame her.

"I'm not sure," Scorpius answered truthfully, "What's one step back from 'arch-nemesis'?"

Rose thought about it for a moment before supplying, "Mortal enemy?"

"Then I guess that's what we're progressing towards."

There was one very tiny moment that Scorpius thought he saw her smile at him with genuine joy in her eyes. But it was gone in an instant and he was left to wonder whether he imagined it.

Rose made a show of putting her cup down and looking at her dainty gold wrist watch.

"Well, I better head off to class," she said, standing and dusting non-existent dirt off her skirts (there was no dirt in Scorpius' quarters - they were immaculate just like he was).

"Class?" He questioned, rising to mirror her, "I thought you were only on night shift for the next few weeks?"

There was another fact about Rose Weasley that had managed to creep into his subconsciousness at some point completely without his permission. He couldn't tell you what Headmaster Longbottom's movements were, or even what year Divination started being taught to students, but he knew Rose Weasley's timetable without a moment's hesitation. Maybe his veela had been more active in his life than he ever realised before. Which didn't bode well for him.

"I am," she smiled at him, the evil glint returning to her eyes, "I volunteered to cover some classes that needed substitutes."

Scorpius froze, his shoulders going rigid and the very little colour he had leaving his face. He was only able to utter one syllable in response.

"No."

Her smile spread across her features until he was almost blinded by the light reflecting off her many teeth.

"You better head to bed, Malfoy, you're looking quite unwell."

This couldn't mean what he thought it meant. Surely not. Surely Longbottom wouldn't betray him like this.

"You're not taking my classes," it was not a question but an order. If the way she shrugged her shoulder was anything to go by, he would guess she was going to ignore him.

"Not all of them," Rose's voice had taken on a musical quality and her whole face had brightened. She was fucking ecstatic, "I have your second years next period, then your fourth years later this afternoon. Don't worry; they're in safe hands."

He worried. He worried a lot.

Scorpius saw nothing but rage; she was already taking his sanity from him, she wouldn't take his classes as well.

Civility be damned - this was war.

"You are not taking over my classroom," another statement. She rolled her eyes at him and took on a poorly fabricated tone he guessed she meant to resemble empathy.

"It's two periods; what's the worst that could happen?"

He could write a ten-book saga on everything that could go wrong with Rose running his classroom and even that would barely touch on 'the worst' of what could happen.

"I am _moulding_ them," Scorpius stressed, a fraction desperately, "I can't have you barging in there and undoing all my good work!"

"What are you afraid of?" Rose was clearly enjoying herself far too much. He was tempted to set the floor on fire just to spite her, "That I'll treat them with kindness and they'll stop obeying you out of blind fear."

He blinked once, then nodded.

"Yes."

She muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes, " _Merlin's itchy ass crack,_ you are impossible."

Rose began storming towards the entrance to his quarters, robes billowing behind her and the atmosphere noticeably changing from calm and content to charged and dangerous. It was like when they were trapped in a store room together; anger and frustration and _other things_ were building and no one knew how it would end. Scorpius didn't want to hang around to find out.

"Get back here Weasley!" He demanded, chasing after her, "I forbid you from teaching my classes!"

Upon reflection, Scorpius could see that was precisely the wrong thing to say.

She spun so violently that, had he been standing much closer to her, he may have been whipped up in her robes and thrown across the room. Her hair flowed with her momentum like a red tidal wave of curls. The glare she wore was the one he'd known since they were children.

" _What_ _did you just say_?!" Rose bellowed and, was he not so angry and ever so slightly tipsy from the tea-Firewhiskey cocktails he'd drank with his father, Scorpius may have been tempted to apologise. As it were, however, he simply matched her volume with his own.

If he could battle his veela's base instincts then he could battle Rose Weasley's ire.

"You heard me!" he challenged.

Her nostrils flared and her face flushed red. It would appear he was being faced with 'War-Weasley', his least favourite of her versions.

"Speak to me like that again and I will make you regret it," she growled, voice low and threatening.

"I will prevent you from stepping foot in my dungeons, Weasley, by any means necessary," his voice matched hers. It was rude of him, exceedingly so, but it would be a cold day in hell before he allowed Rose Weasley to take his classes. She couldn't. The potions lab was _his_. He couldn't have her infiltrating it and… _Rose-ing_ the whole place up.

Her tone was lighter when she questioned him quietly, "Did you just threaten me, Malfoy?"

It was a trap. He was sure of it. But he couldn't back down from this. What would happen if Rose walked in there and couldn't control them and something blew up? What if someone managed to smuggle out some Amortentia and drugged half the school? What if a student snuck into his supply closet and stole all his ingredients while she wasn't looking? Disruptive behaviour in potions classes had catastrophic consequences, and he did not believe Rose Weasley appreciated the severity with which classroom behaviour had to be monitored. What's the worst that could happen in an Astrology class? Someone bumps a telescope? Spills some ink on their star map? What a calamity that would be.

But perhaps the biggest threat of all, the one that Scorpius wouldn't voice even to himself, was that there was every possibility that Rose Weasley would take two of his classes and prove that she could teach them just as well as he could. That she was his _equal_. The thought was terrifying and humiliating in equal measure.

He looked her in the eye and muttered one word, "Yes."

He didn't even see her reach for her wand.

" _Petrificus Totalus_ _!"_

Scorpius felt his entire body go rigid the second before he fell backwards, stiff as a board and completely incapable of moving. He listened as her footsteps retreated, heading in the general direction of his doorway.

"Now get some rest, Malfoy," she called in a sing-song voice as she pranced away from him, an extra flair in her step that wasn't there before he so embarrassingly fell to the floor, "I'd simply hate it if you needed another day off. Who knows what havoc I could cause teaching your seventh years tomorrow!"

He listened, helpless, as the door opened and closed and Rose Weasley disappeared into the corridors to corrupt his classroom and ruin his lesson plans.

All he could think as he lay on the carpet (which smelt rather foul now he was this close to it) was that if this was 'equality' he wasn't bloody interested.

It would appear they were arch-nemeses once more.

* * *

 _That's right folks, Triwizard Tournament's a-coming. And you know what that means? YULE BALL BITCHES XD XD_

 _(Not for a while yet, but it will happen)._

 _I'll try to get the next chapter up in a reasonable amount of time, as long as my computer doesn't die again. Also I'm working on a Christmas present for you all so keep your eyes and ears peeled._

 _All my love,_

 _Grae_

 _EDIT: It was pointed out to me in a review (left by a guest so I can't contact them directly to thank them) that the spell I actually meant with Petrificus Totalus, not Stupefy. My bad! Sorry folks! I'll do more research next time. Thanks to the person who pointed it out! I owe ya one :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey folks. Sorry for the delay - I've been a bit unwell, but am on the improve so here ya go!_

 _Neville is a bit OOC here, but I also figure that we're dealing with like a 50-60 year old Neville here, not the terrified teenager in the original series. So he's bound to have changed a bit._

 _Things get a bit…weird I guess in this chapter? Less flirting, more fighting. Stick with it, things will improve (looks like this is going to be a slower burn than I originally thought)._

 _Any reviews are always treasured! Much love xo._

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Early Bird Gets the (Flubber) Worm**

By the time Scorpius came to, he had no idea how much time had passed. A minute? An hour? A day? They were all equally possible knowing Weasley and her penchant for upping the severity of her charms whenever he was involved. The fact that he hadn't wet himself indicated that it was more likely a number of hours rather than days, but one could never be too sure. He'd tested his ability to move every few moments, trying to flex his fingers or wriggle his toes. When the feeling finally came back to his extremities and his digits began moving - slowly, but they moved - he had had plenty of time to mentally plan what he was going to do.

Step 1 - find Rose Weasley

Step 2 - put Rose Weasley in a body bind. See how she likes it when she's randomly attacked without warning or justification.

Step 3 - rescue his potions classes, what was left of them, and hope to Merlin that she hadn't done anything rash like letting the children pick their own partners, or - worse still - encouraged them to talk and _laugh_.

He shuddered at the thought. Potions Class was not the place for frivolity and friendship. It was an arena of deadly ingredients, idiot students, and literal recipes for disaster. He didn't think that Rose appreciated just how different their classrooms were. She might get away with letting the children guide their own learning when they were doing nothing but looking at stars, but one wrong move in the Potions classroom could result in everyone being sent to the Hospital Wing. He watched over them all like a hawk for a reason, not just because he was an asshole.

At least that was what he told his superiors.

So when movement finally returned, he worked on rolling himself over so he could push himself up to standing. It was a laborious task, his limbs heavy and tingling as the magic wore off. He eventually managed to get to his knees before hiking himself to his feet. He dusted himself off and tried to ignore the way his robes had creased after lying on the floor for an unknown length of time. If he had more patience and time he would have done a few charms here and there to fix them up. As it were, he simply couldn't risk any further delay. After all, Rose's negligence could be leading to a catastrophe as he stood here contemplating whether or not to arm himself with a sword as well as his wand.

Accident in the astronomy tower - telescope gets a scratch.

Accident in the potions lab - letters to parents explaining why their child was now missing several limbs.

He forewent the sword, checking his pocket watch as he strode towards the door to ascertain just how much damage had been done by Rose. The lesson had been going for at least 40 minutes. 40 minutes lying on his lounge room floor frozen - how humiliating. Rose would have to pay. There was only 20 minutes left of the session but he was sure he could salvage it, at least a little bit.

As he rushed through the hallways to get to the dungeons (not too far - his quarters were deliberately close to the potions lab given he was a Slytherin-assigned teacher), Scorpius couldn't help but feel a little pang of hurt by how the morning had ended. He and Rose had actually been getting along for a minute there; they were perfectly civil to each other. He had felt _things_ in his gut when she gave him a genuine smile, and something else had - he cleared some vomit from his throat - _fluttered_ at the prospect of her being concerned for him.

This fucking bird was taking over his brain.

He didn't like how he'd felt - far from it - but something felt off about how they'd left things. He reasoned with himself that the only reason it had him feeling a little bit queasy was because if they were somewhat civil to each other it would make it all the easier to prank her or insult her because she wouldn't be suspecting it. That was all.

It had absolutely nothing to do with fluttering innards. Nope. Nothing at all.

Merlin almighty he needed to get a cure. Just as soon as he'd ejected Rose from his potions lab.

Scorpius was walking at a pace just barely below a run, crinkled robes billowing behind him. A few students came across his path, took one look at him, and promptly adverted their eyes for fear of being yelled at. That almost brought a smile to his face; he so enjoyed being imposing. He turned the corner to the Potions Lab and heard the sound that he was most terrified of. He could hear it through the door, trickling into the corridor, causing the blood to drain from his face and a shiver of fear to run down his spine.

Laughter.

Students were laughing. In his potions lab.

 _This madness must be ceased!_

Upon reflection, he probably should have just opened the door by hand like a regular, non-psychotic person. However if you asked his father, he'd tell you Scorpius had always been a touch dramatic.

As evidenced by the way he wordlessly blew the door open with a bang.

Whoops.

Scorpius marched through the door to find students shocked into silence and Rose standing at the front of the class with her wand pointed at him, her eyes fierce and prepped for battle. He imagined he probably looked a bit like a madman; after all he'd not taken the time to fix his hair after he'd been so gracelessly left to fall to the floor, so it was half atop his head, half hanging in limp strands around his face. His eyes were wide and his nostrils flared as he tried to stop himself from yelling all the obscenities running through his mind. He really shouldn't in front of the children. He should really keep his composure in front of the class and speak to Rose like a normal civilised adult would.

" _GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM."_

Ok, so that wasn't as calm and composed as he'd have liked. But he couldn't help it - she was _ruining everything_. All his hard work getting them to be terrified of him, undone with one silly lesson by Rose. Who, now that he'd stopped seeing red and actually looked at her properly, looked just as angry as he felt. Which was totally unjustified.

" _WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"_ She gestured to the door which he may or may not have blown off it's hinges. Another whoops, "You almost destroyed the door!"

"I'll fix it later," he brushed it aside before pointing to the corridor, "Get out of my classroom."

"You're on leave, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth, the first time she'd ever addressed him so plainly in the company of others. He noted that her wand was still drawn, "Go back to your room."

"You mean where you _left_ me?!" He bit back without thinking about it.

There was a collective scandalised gasp from the group of students who descended into a flurry of squeals and whispers. He really should have rephrased that. Rose's face flushed red and for one rather terrifying minute he really thought she was going to Avada Kedavra him right there in the doorway. This was not how he wanted to go out, although he'd be lying if he said he hadn't contemplated the fact that Rose might literally be the death of him. In fact the thought had occurred to him repeatedly over the past few days especially.

" _SILENCE EVERYONE!"_ He commanded.

The students immediately stopped chattering and looked at him with a new glint of fear. He raked his eyes over them as if daring one of the second years to have the audacity to defy him and make a sound. Some of them looked tempted, but none of them spoke. Maybe they had one or two more braincells then he gave them credit for.

Rose's eye twitched when he directed his attention back to her.

"I heard laughter from down the hallway," his tone was dark but he was no longer yelling, "There is no laughter in this classroom. You clearly aren't treating this seriously. I'm here to take over."

"Laughter is not a sign of disobedience, Malfoy," she still hadn't lowered her wand. He was tempted to disarm her but the thought of her literally clawing out his eyes with her bare hands was probably a worse way to go than the Killing Curse so he resisted, "People can have fun and also learn. In fact, I would argue that learning _should be_ fun."

The way her finger twitched did not escape him. "How touching. Mind lowering your wand, Weasley - I don't fancy having my eyebrows blown off."

She smirked at him, "Bold of you to assume I'd go for something as insignificant as your eyebrows."

A snigger swept through the students. He silenced them with a glare. Rose had the decency to lower her hand, but kept her wand firmly grasped at her side.

"You are on leave," she said again, "If you think you're fit to teach, you can take it up with the Headmaster. Until then, you need to get out."

There was a sizzling under his skin, a bite at the base of his neck, and a boiling in his blood that was compelling him to follow her order. He wanted to leave. He wanted to murmur " _yes Rose"_ and bow out of the classroom quietly; eager to please her. Which was exactly why there was no fucking way he was going to do that. He was not about to stand here and take orders from Rose fucking Weasley. This stupid thing in his head was not going to dictate his actions and control his body. He could fight this.

Just like he could fight the heat pooling in his belly at the knowledge that Rose's anger-fuelled eyes were probably going to feature in tonight's dreams. He refused to have sex dreams about Weasley after she'd stunned him this morning. He'd stay awake all goddam night if he had to.

"I've had a miraculous recovery," he said, eyes fixed on hers, "Had a lie down, meditated on the floor for _forty minutes_ or so. Now I'm right as rain."

"That is not for you to decide," Rose fired back through gritted teeth, "Go and speak with the Headmaster. _Now_."

And Merlin help him his feet almost moved without his permission. Part of him so badly wanted to follow her instruction. But the larger and more stubborn part of him stayed exactly where he was. Scorpius noticed someone scribbling on a piece of paper somewhere to his right. He glanced over to see two of the girls writing notes to each other, something no doubt about his and Rose's current display. If students were convinced they got up to anything other than arguing when they locked themselves in the supply closet, this little interaction wasn't exactly going to stop the rumours. He made a mental note to seize the piece of paper on their way out. For the moment he had more important things to attend to. Such as verbally sparring with Rose and having her removed from his classroom.

"Sorry, Weasley, I didn't realise you'd been promoted to my supervisor!" He looked sarcastically contemplative, "Oh wait, you haven't. Which means I don't take orders from you."

"I don't think the forty minutes were enough," Rose had an astounding ability to talk without opening her mouth very far. The unfortunate by-product of this was that she always seemed to be forcing words past gritted teeth. She's make an excellent ventriloquist, "Maybe you need to take another nap."

A thinly veiled threat that he was not going to back away from. "I encourage you to try forcing me back to my room, Professor. I'll be more than ready to face off against your interesting persuasion techniques than I was earlier."

Another snigger through the room of imbeciles. Well shit, seems like his threat sounded more like innuendo again. Rose's glare hardened but she also blushed, so he counted that as more of a win than a loss.

"Do I really need to call the Headmaster down here, Professor?" She asked in a tone that was doing a good job at concealing how pissed she truly was to have him supposedly 'intruding'.

"Please do!" Scorpius said, taking long measured steps towards the front of the class, hopefully covering the fact that his feet still tingled each time they connected with the stone floor, "I'm sure he'd be very interested to see my recovery, and hear how you _helped_ me."

Somewhere near the back of the classroom he was quite sure he heard someone whisper " _sick."_ He ignored them. Rose took a number of steps towards him and he totally ignored the way her cream and gold robes billowed around her, just like he definitely didn't notice her lips again. Or that face of hers that she had apparently grown over night. Damn unfair it was. How dare she just spring into his life today looking attractive. Like she didn't already have enough of a head start. It was just unsporting.

Although this was a woman who had left him in a body bind after she'd broken into his room, and who had threatened him with castration when he suspended one of her favourite students. Sportsmanship was not exactly one of her strong suits.

"Malfoy," she murmured, somehow thinking that the 20 or so sets of ears were not listening attentively to everything they said (normally teachers would kill for this kind of attention), "This has gone on long enough. You're acting irrationally. You need to leave."

Part of him wanted to, part of him needed to.

He mentally hit that part of his brain with a boulder.

"I am perfectly capable of teaching, Weasley," he said, voice hushed even though he knew they'd all been listening, "I was a little under the weather this morning, but I assure you I am fine now. I'd hate to inconvenience you by taking time out of what must be a very hectic schedule. Thank you for your service, now kindly leave."

"No," something softened in her eyes and for one rather odd moment, Rose Weasley looked at him with something akin to concern in her eyes, just as she had this morning. And that damn thing in his stomach fluttered. He wanted to vomit, "I really don't think you're well. You may not be dying, but I saw you last…"

She paused, her eyes darting to the students that were 'totally' reading the materials in front of them and 'not' eavesdropping on their conversation.

"You weren't well at the Astronomy Tower," she said delicately, her words sincere, "You need a rest."

"Were those your thoughts when you attacked me? Were they _rational_ actions?"

The concern faded and her gaze hardened, "No, that was because you were being an ass."

More sniggering. One of the girls he didn't particularly like might have even punched the air in victory. He made a mental note to make her clean out cauldrons next time he gave her detention.

Scorpius was going to say something in response when something terrible happened - there was a draft (probably because of the door he'd blown off it's hinges), and Rose's scent wafted towards him.

Being this close to her was a terrible mistake.

He smelt it again - roses, candle wax, something else that he only ever seemed to smell around Rose. It engulfed his senses and made him woozy once more (the alcohol still swarming around in his system probably wasn't helping much either). He stumbled and was equally surprised and mildly horrified when Weasley instinctively moved to steady his fall. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and yeah, if she could do exactly the opposite of that he'd really appreciate it. Because with her here, standing so close to him, her hands gripping him, it was taking a lot of his composure not to lean forward and hold on to her too.

 _Get it together you stupid fucking bird._

" _See_?" Rose muttered, and look at that, her lovely blue eyes were shining with concern again.

Merlin he wanted to punch himself in the face. Repeatedly.

Scorpius adverted his eyes - maybe if he didn't look at her he wouldn't be able to smell her. That made sense - and did a quick perusal of the room. "I am perfectly fine to-"

He stopped talking when he noticed something over the other side of the room. Something on the table of two of his students - two Gryffindor boys that were so stereotypical of the house that 'acted-first, thought-second' it was almost comical - was moving. Why was there something moving?

"What is that?" Scorpius pointed to the object in question. One of the boys, Darcy Willoughby, at least had the decency to look terrified tried to move his textbook in front of the offending item.

"Nothing!" He lied quickly and unconvincingly.

"Willoughby!" Scorpius commanded, still feeling a little woozy, "I will give you one opportunity to tell me the truth before I stop asking nicely."

Willoughby gulped so loudly Scorpius heard it from where he was standing. Rose had looked over to where he was looking, her arms crossed a little defensively. After an agonisingly long moment of consideration, during which the child literally broken out in a sweat (so much for courage and bravery and all that trollop), he shifted his textbook to reveal the offending items.

"Flubberworms, sir," he answered in a sheepish voice. Scorpius was not impressed.

"You're supposed to be making a Swelling Solution - why do you have Flubberworms?" He turned his accusatory gaze to Rose before the boy could answer, "Why did you give them Flubberworms?"

"I didn't tell them to get Flubberworms!" She defended hotly, although he could tell she was a touch embarrassed. Good.

"Wait - told them to?" Understanding dawned on him and horror spread across his face, " _You let them get ingredients themselves?!"_

"They can follow simple instructions, Malfoy," she bit back at him, her face flushing in anger and embarrassment.

"I beg to differ!" He turned his attention to the class, "Who here has something _other_ than what you specifically need for the Swelling Solution?"

No one raised their hands or pointed to anyone else - second years were notoriously backbone-less and would often throw their classmates under the bus, especially seeing as this was a Gryffindor-Slytherin mix. It appeared he only had one thief on his hands.

"No? Just you, Willoughby and Banks?" Scorpius looked between the two boys who were very pointedly focusing their attention on anything but Scorpius and Rose.

"Boys," Rose chided, her voice stern but considerably less severe than Scorpius', "I am very disappointed in you both."

Being shamed by one of their icons from their own house seemed to have a greater effect on them, their heads hanging in shame, their apologies muttered but heartfelt. That was probably the most annoying part of the whole ordeal - the fact that Rose Weasley stepped foot in his classroom for one period and had more of an effect on them then he did. They feared Scorpius, they respected Rose. He found himself bizarrely jealous.

"Detention!" Scorpius barked, "Both of you! Dishes with the house elves after dinner for the remained of the week. And you'll be washing _without_ magic. 40 points from Gryffindor!"

The rest of their housemates gave them daggers and muttered their disapprovals. Rose may have elbowed him.

"Detention would have been enough," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. He turned to face her, looking down at her with his face set in it's regular expressionless facade for the first time that day.

"They have to learn, Weasley," he was a touch condescending and he refused to apologise, "This sort of thing is exactly what I was worried would happen."

Then he did something that, retrospectively, was rather ill-conceived.

" _Accio Dish!"_

There were a number of things Scorpius did not consider when he said the command.

He did not consider that the little dish the Flubberworms were perched on would fly with quite the velocity that it did. He did not consider that there was a cauldron stand or three in the direct path between his hand and the Flubberworms. He did not consider that, being a creature and all, the worms were prone to movement. And he seemed to momentarily forget that the students had been brewing a Swelling Solution.

Had he considered all of these components, he may have rethought his plan, or at least predicted what happened next. Which was somewhat of a catastrophe.

The dish flew across the room, knocking against Willoughby and Banks' cauldron stand as it did. The wriggling little creatures, harmless as they were, flew from the dish and tumbled through the air, students watching in horror as they became airborne. A number of the girls screamed, some of the boys ducked for cover. None of the students were hit by the worms. Because every single one of them landed in various cauldrons. All full of Swelling Solution.

This was not ideal.

For once, the students seemed to have made the potion with basically no faults, as each of the five worms starting growing to enormous proportions. As they wriggled, the worms flicked some of the potion onto students. And that was precisely the moment that all hell broke loose. Limbs started swelling, children started screaming, cauldrons were breaking, benches were buckling, Rose might have sworn at him, and he may have sworn at himself. The room was in total hysteria. Boys at the rear of the class were laughing loudly, textbooks were growing to the size of the table, a stool grew so tall it almost hit the roof, and one poor girl's glasses almost broke her nose as they expanded quickly. A boy's right ear was the size of a dinner plate, another girl's right hand grew to the size of Hagrid's. There were tears. There were many, many tears. People ran for a way to escape the wildly wriggling worms that were now 6 feet long with very little success.

Scorpius and Rose tried to tell everyone to remain calm, but hope was lost. He himself was feeling decidedly not calm. Just as he was about to shout at everyone to shut the hell up, a new voice joined the fray.

" _What is going on here?!"_

Great. What a wonderful time for Neville Longbottom to arrive. Just. Peachy.

" _Immobulus!"_ The headmaster called as he swept his wand over the scene front of him, preventing the potion from spreading any further and freezing the Flubberworms in their attempts to eat books or other ingredients.

Ah yes. _Immobulus._ That very basic and handy spell he'd learnt in second year. Scorpius probably should have thought of that.

The presence of the Headmaster, combined with the demobilising of the Flubberworms, seemed to calm the students a bit, most of them looking to the older man for guidance and assurance. Neville surveyed them all for a moment, a look of confusion and exasperation crossing his wrinkled features.

"Anyone requiring medical attention or assistance with swelling - go and see Madam Pomfrey immediately, please," Neville commanded.

A number of whimpering students shuffled out of the classroom, each showing him their various swollen body parts on the way out. He nodded sympathetically, but continued to direct them quickly.

"As for everyone else - the rest of your lesson is to be spent in the library researching the uses and history of Swelling Solutions while this classroom gets cleaned up. Dismissed!"

Scorpius and Rose stood to the side silently, not making eye contact with each other or any of the students as they wandered out, some traumatised, some ecstatic. Neville turned to face them, the chorus of students passing between where he stood on one side of the doorway and where Scorpius and Rose stood towards the front of the classroom. Scorpius was fairly sure he had never seen the man look so displeased.

As they swaggered out of the classroom, Angus Billings muttered to one of his friends, " _They're totally bangin'."_ Scorpius gave him a light tap upside of the head and took 30 points from Slytherin, just for good measure. That got him another long-suffering sigh from Longbottom, but the man didn't negate the point-taking so he guessed the Headmaster wasn't too displeased with his choice of punishment.

Once only the three of them remained, Rose stepped forward to plead forgiveness he guessed.

"Nevil-"

It was the first time Scorpius heard the infinitely polite man cut someone off.

"Both of you. My office. Now."

Rose gave Scorpius a look that he interpreted roughly as " _Merlin's right bollock_ (she was always saying heinous things like that) _I think we're gunna die._ "

And if Scorpius had to give an approximate translation of what his face had said in reply, it was probably, " _Sweet Founding Fathers, may our deaths be swift and merciful"_.

* * *

The clock on the wall has ticked 726 times. Which meant he had been sitting silently in this office for just over 12 minutes. Which meant that Neville Longbottom had been staring at the two of them without saying a word for over 12 minutes.

Which meant he and Rose were in a lot of shit.

Sitting across from the Headmaster's desk was not a particularly fun exercise, whether it be as a student or as a teacher. Not at all coincidentally, most of the times Scorpius could recall sitting in this position he was often accompanied by Rose, as was the case now.

Scorpius felt like he was 15 years old again and being told off for setting Rose's books on fire. She was considerably less singed this time though, and he was, thankfully, less bruised. He could feel the heat of anger and shame radiating off her where she was sat next to him. He would be delighting in the fact if he wasn't feeling similarly sheepish. Scorpius believed wholeheartedly that he was absolutely justified in everything he had done today (drinking before noon with his father included). However, he was very confident that the Headmaster would not share this opinion. Next to him, Rose cleared her throat.

"Headmaster-"

"No no!" Neville shook his head and silenced her with a look, "You don't get to speak yet. I'm still trying to decide whether I'm going to yell at you both or if it's better if I just convey my _severe_ disappointment in a series of sighs."

Scorpius turned out his most charming smile, "If I were you -"

"If you were me you'd not be sitting in the Headmaster's Office because I wouldn't start brawling with my colleague in front of a classroom full of students."

It appeared the Headmaster decided to wear his big-boy pants today. How unfortunate.

"I've decided," Neville said to himself, giving his head a subtle nod, "I think I need to yell at you both."

Very unfortunate indeed.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Explain yourselves!"

Both Rose and Scorpius remained silent. Was this a trap? They had, after all, just been told not to speak. He risked glancing sideways at Rose to ascertain what she was thinking. She similarly eyed him and they shared an entire conversation with nothing but subtle eyebrow twitches.

Rose's Eyebrows: _Do you think its a trap?_

Scorpius' eyebrows: _It feels like a trap._

Rose's Eyebrows: _Neville wouldn't trap us…say something._

Scorpius' Eyebrows: _You say something._

Rose's Eyebrow: _Are you insane? It's clearly a trap._

"Well?!" Neville interrupted their non-verbal discussion.

Scorpius thought it was mighty selfish of Rose not to step up to the plate on this one. After all, Neville was basically her uncle (or something - her family honestly baffled him with all it's off-shoots and weird connections), if either of them was going to plead a successful case of their pardon it was her. She could smile at him and call him uncle and apologise profusely and Scorpius was sure they'd be able to get off with nothing more than a warning. Rose was annoyingly charming like that. It was about time she put it to use to save them both instead of just making all their colleagues love her (and, by extension, dislike him). It appeared, however, she was going to continue to be difficult and stay silent.

Bloody typical. Scorpius would have to save them again.

"Well Headmaster," he started and then promptly realised he had no idea what to say to somehow get out of this one, "Weasley could probably explain a bit better than me."

He turned towards her with a painfully fake smile on his face. She glared at him briefly before turning her attention back to Neville.

"Well, Headmaster, the thing is…" Rose was similarly stumped. Well colour him shocked - Weasley was _lost for words_. Neville Longbottom's angry face was a blessing from the Creators, "It's _entirely_ Professor Malfoy's fault."

"IT IS NOT!" He defended passionately, pointing to Rose indignantly, "She put me in a body bind!"

Rose at least had the decency to look abashed by that. "That was a…ah…a misunderstanding."

Scorpius scoffed. "Prey tell, what did I _misunderstand_ about you breaking into my personal quarters and then leaving me incapacitated on the floor?"

Neville's face lit up with a blush that disappeared into his hairline along with his eyebrows and Scorpius realised all too late that his statement could perhaps be taken a bit out of context, just like most things he'd said today. Not that it should, because no one in their right mind should ever assume that he and Rose had anything but antagonistic feelings towards each other (least of all his own damn father). So Scorpius had not entertained the fact that perhaps it sounded a bit like Rose had tied him to a bedpost or something.

Rose.

His bed.

His ties.

Oh fuck. Now would be a very bad time to get an erection. So his anatomy better _not fuck this up._

"Not for sex!" Rose clarified, sounding just as disgusted as Scorpius did at the prospect. Because he _was_ disgusted. He was. "I just wanted to check up on Malfoy, given that he was sick this morning. I wanted to make sure it wasn't contagious."

"So, to make sure he wasn't contagious," Neville was speaking slowly as if talking to an idiot child. Scorpius found it endlessly entertaining, "You thought the best course of action was to go to his quarters, and thereby risk infection, just to confirm whether or not you could be infected?"

Rose swallowed thickly and Scorpius smirked. Maybe the Headmaster was on his side after all. How refreshingly wonderful.

"Well there was a chance I was already infected," Rose tried desperately to un-dig herself out of the hole she'd made, "After Professor Malfoy visited the astronomy tower last night -"

She paused, only now realising that this line of reasoning was not doing much to abate the 'we're totally sleeping together' vibes they were apparently giving out to all and sundry. The Headmaster's eyebrows disappeared into his hair again and Scorpius inwardly groaned at how this whole debacle was playing out. He came here wanting Rose to be put in her place about firing on him and breaking into his room; he _did not_ come here having to explain to yet another misguided old man that he was not sexually attracted to Rose Weasley. Besides he had far more important things to do, such as try to read as many journals as possible to sort out a cure.

"Not for sex!" She defended again quickly. He wouldn't be surprised if even her toes were red she was blushing so hard.

"That's the second time you've had to say that - you sure you're doing this right?" He chided. She shot him a glare and looked like she was going to slap him.

"I don't hear you volunteering information, Malfoy."

"You're doing a mighty fine job of digging your own grave; I'll just put in that final coffin nail when the time calls for it, shall I?"

"I swear to Merlin-"

"Professor Weasley," Neville interrupted. Again. That was the third time today. The man was irate, "Why did you think you were already infected?"

"Because Professor Malfoy flew to the Astronomy Tower last night and was acting completely unhinged!" Rose exclaimed erratically.

"I was _not_ unhinged!" Scorpius defended before lowering his voice to a more respectable volume, "I was just flying to clear my mind."

"He crash-landed in the classroom!"

"A minor miscalculation due to the dark."

"Then he jumped out my window!"

"Surely I'm not the first man to do that, Weasley."

" _Enough_!"

Neville Longbottom just yelled. Dear Merlin, did they break him? The Wizarding World's Most Surprising, Sweater-Wearing Badass. The Could-Have-Been-Chosen-One. The man that pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword from the Sorting Hat at the Battle of Hogwarts. The man who faced the greatest wizarding evil as a teenager, and came out victorious. Did Rose and Scorpius' rivalry finally break him?

Scorpius didn't know whether to be proud or profoundly ashamed.

Longbottom seemed to be trying to calm himself with meditative breathing with minimal success. When he finally spoke, he sounded surprisingly (impressively) calm.

"What the two of you do outside of work hours is not my business," he levelled them both with another long-suffering look, "As long as it doesn't interfere with your ability to do your job, or come into the classroom."

He paused meaningfully, looking between the both of them.

"What happened today was absolutely unacceptable."

Oh fuck. Scorpius was going to be fired. He was going to be fired because of Rose Weasley and his stupid bird brain.

"There are six students in the hospital wing with various body parts of exponential size, and I've had to call in Phillipa to sort out the Flubberworms than were starting to literally eat the potions lab," Scorpius gave an unconscious whimper at the thought of his classroom being destroyed, "Not to mention that I'm sure the entire school will be buzzing with the tales of how two Professors - who are supposed to set an example for students and peers alike - were practically duelling in the classroom."

"With all due respect, sir, we weren't duelling," Scorpius defended, "We were just…having a bit of a spat."

"With 20-odd second years to recount the tale, I'm sure everyone will be told you were throwing Unforgivables left, right, and centre," Neville's voice was stern but not loud; a slight improvement, "That is not a story I need getting home to parents."

It was hardly Scorpius' fault (or Rose's for that matter) that the students were a pack of liars. Surely they didn't need to be held accountable for false tales reported to parents.

"I had thought that you two would have out-grown this," the older man sounded completely exasperated and a little defeated. Shit, maybe they did break him, "I had hoped that as adults you would have been able to reconcile your differences, or at the very least behave appropriately in the workplace. It seemed I was hoping for too much."

He heard Rose sniffle beside him. Holy fuck maybe they were actually going to be fired. Surely a few giant Flubberworms wasn't something to get _fired_ over. The place had moving staircases for crying out loud; Flubberworms shouldn't even be cause for an eyebrow raise at this place.

Putting a fellow teacher in a body bind on the other hand…

( _Something inside him whined at the thought of Rose being fired. It didn't want her to leave. It wanted to keep her close. It needed to keep her close_ )

"I know the both of you far too well to think either one of you is more responsible than the other for what happened today," Scorpius would like to debate that claim - fervently - but he didn't want to risk being yelled at by Neville Longbottom again. It was worse than being told off by his dad, "So you'll both be reprimanded equally."

Longbottom looked between the two of them, allowing them an extra minute to marinate in their guilt and shame.

"This is the final warning either of you get. Another outburst like today and I'll be forced to take drastic action - do I make myself clear?"

Scorpius and Rose murmured a deflated " _yes, sir"_. It really was like they were third years again.

"I'm assigning you both to late night detention in the Forbidden Forrest for the rest of the term."

Oh holy hell.

"Late night?" Rose questioned at the same time that Scorpius argued, "Rest of the term?"

"Yes," Neville said in response to both of them, "It will just have to work around your classes, Professor Weasley. And after all, Phillipa is assisting in cleaning up both your messes, it's only fair that you go and clean up some of the forrest for her."

Phillipa Grubbly-Plank was a second generation Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures Teacher and very, very good at her job. She was not, however, overly fond of Scorpius. He made a mental note to keep a keen eye out for Fire Crabs that just so happened to 'get loose' from their enclosures.

"Isn't detention in the Forbidden Forrest for a term usually a punishment for students _?_ " Scorpius asked, recalling his own nighttime treks through the forrest during his years studying. Probably the reason Phillipa wasn't overly fond of him actually.

"If you insist on acting like children, then you'll be treated like children," Neville fired back, "Understood?"

They both murmured their sheepish ' _yes, sir'_ again in a synchronisation that was a little bit creepy. After ascertaining that Thursday evening was the only evening this week Rose wasn't teaching, all parties agreed that they'd meet at the edge of the Forbidden Forrest at roughly 10:00pm to take the small group of students through on detention. Neville nodded in satisfaction, his shoulders relaxing a touch.

"Weasley, you're dismissed. Malfoy, stay a minute longer please."

Rose didn't looked particularly victorious, so at least that was a bonus. He was not, however, put at ease by the severity still painting Longbottom's features. Whatever conversation was about to be had, Scorpius did not think it was going to be particularly enjoyable for him.

Neville waited until Rose had left before looking Scorpius in the eye, his eyes guarded but concerned. However, just like the earlier discussions with his father, Scorpius was determined not to speak until directly spoken to. When the older man's voice came, it was a lot softer and more empathetic than the earlier berating.

"Your health is your own business, and I'm not asking you for specifics, Scorpius," he said in measure tones, "But I need to know if you are a risk to anyone at this school."

Before Scorpius could answer, Neville added, "Including yourself."

That comment, and the sincerity and care with which it was delivered, gave Scorpius pause. Neville knew certain information about him and his condition. Scorpius' father had thought it was for the best; especially considering Scorpius would be returning to Hogwarts post-puberty and none of them really knew if everything was going to stay under control with the abundance of hormones running through his system. Draco had met with Neville in private, and then again with Scorpius present, and gave him some details without going into specifics. He had explained that Scorpius had a genetic disorder than was likely to impact on his emotions, his appearance, and may cause certain body modifications. Whilst there was no cure, there was a suppressant which he could brew himself if given the adequate space and equipment in which to do so. With the constant use of the suppressant, there shouldn't be any issues. Neville had agreed without concern after getting Draco's guarantee that there was no likelihood that Scorpius would attack a student or cause any other issues throughout the school. Scorpius would not fully understand until several years later what integrity and strength of character this displayed from the Hogwarts Headmaster, especially considering his track record with the older Malfoy man had not exactly been stellar. Scorpius had been allocated private brewing sessions in the Potions Lab with whomever was Potions Master at the time, and the ingredients were always readily available to him. When he was in the hospital wing following a particularly bad hit from a bludger (courtesy of Hugo Weasley this time), his elixir had been delivered to him to ensure there were no concerns. No further questions by any student or staff member were ever asked.

In short, Scorpius had total faith that he could tell Neville Longbottom exactly what his curse was and precisely how it was impacting on his actions, knowing that he would be listened to, understood, and supported in getting any assistance he required.

However.

He just didn't want to.

He still wasn't coping with the fact that Rose Weasley might be ( _read: almost certainly was_ ) his mate, and he really didn't feel like telling the man that was practically her uncle that a base instinct in him meant he was having very visual sex dreams involving her. There were just some things he wanted to save himself and others from having to experience.

There was also the consideration that the more people who knew about this whole situation, the more real it became. And as unhealthy a solution as blatant ignorance was, he wasn't quite ready to give it up just yet.

So instead of going into complete detail about all the little discoveries he'd had the misfortune of making in the past few days, Scorpius settled for a relatively sedate version of events.

"A key ingredient of my suppressant has become unavailable," he explained, "Southern Blue Monkshood. Without it the potion is…well it's basically useless, it would appear."

Neville considered the information for a moment, his face not hinting that he was particularly shocked or overly concerned with the disclosure.

"It's been a bad year for Monkshood," he added, Herbology extraordinaire coming out, "Worldwide shortage I've heard."

"Yes," Scorpius nodded, the tingling under his skin starting to grow as Rose went further and further away. He tried to ignore it, "I've requested a replacement immediately but I haven't had much luck."

The older man gave a contemplative nod, "I'll contact some private growers and see if they've got any they can afford to part with."

Scorpius almost wept with joy. "That would be wonderful, Headmaster."

There was a charge to the air and Scorpius knew that they weren't quite done yet; the original question not yet answered.

"Without your suppressant," Neville held eye contact and Scorpius found it difficult not to look away, "Is it safe for you to be here? Because you can take leave for all the time you need - no questions asked. And I would prefer you make that call yourself rather than forcing my hand."

The message was clear - _This is a one-time-only deal. If you don't leave now and continue to cause trouble I will throw you out myself._

Scorpius respected the man for his composure. He considered the offer and genuinely contemplated his options. He could leave. He could request a transfer to Ilvermorny, although that might necessitate an uncomfortable conversation about why it was Hogwarts specifically that aggravated his situation. He could stay at The Manor and spend time dodging questions from his mother and knowing eyebrow raises from his father, maybe scare a few demon-birds. He could be the first person in history to request a vacation at Azkaban. That might not be so bad.

As tempting as running away was, Scorpius had a strong suspicion of how it would end - him withering on the floor, the feeling of needing Rose driving him mad and setting his skin on fire. His father said himself - a male veela without a mate was a miserable cad. Madness already ran in the family to a certain extent (power-hungry madmen was basically their breed, and let's not forget good old Great Aunt Bellatrix's legacy); he didn't want to do anything that would increase his chances of losing his mind.

Being here, with plenty of things to keep him occupied, and his proximity to Rose easily managed, seemed to be the lesser of a wide variety of evils. He was by no means happy about the prospect, but it terrified him less than the others.

"I'm not a risk," Scorpius finally answered. Technically it wasn't lying because he couldn't say for sure that it was untrue. Also didn't know for sure if it was true either. But that was just semantics, "I can manage this."

Neville looked at him for another long moment, trying to read his face for any sign that he was being misled. Seemingly appeased, he nodded after a minute and let out a breath.

"Let me know as soon as you feel yourself…not managing."

Scorpius had to smile, "Will do, Headmaster."

"Right. You're free to go," Scorpius stood and started heading for the door, "Oh and Scorpius?"

He stopped and turned, "Yes, sir?"

"Please don't feed Rose to anything in the Forbidden Forrest on Thursday evening," he sounded tired, "I'd hate to have to explain your sudden disappearance to your father after Hermione Weasley got retribution."

Scorpius gulped at the thought.

"Noted, sir."

* * *

 _Done! So this chapter was probably a little less fun, a bit more crazy than I initially anticipated. But next chapter (and the one after that) is going to change things up again. I promise Rose and Scorpius will eventually start becoming closer and they'll both start becoming nicer to each other. I just really hate insta-love so I'm trying to avoid it as much as possible. Which turns things into a very drawn out slow-burn. My bad._

 _On another note, the holidays (Christmas, new years, Hanukkah, etc.) can be a bit of a rough time for some people. I hope you've all had a safe holiday season. My love to you all xo_


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6! Woohoo! Now for all your HP devotees that know the world inside and out, prepare to be a bit disappointed with this chapter - I have taken a lot of creative license when it comes to Beasts and veela lore. I hope it doesn't make you roll your eyes too hard (I warned you this was trope stew remember). I'm also not very good at writing suspense, but I tried haha._

 _Also, I'm going to need some help with ideas for trials for the Triwizard tournament. If anyone has any ideas please feel free to drop me a PM with any ideas you're happy for me to borrow/Frankenstein into my story. You will be credited once I finally get around to including the Triwizard tournament portions (it won't be in great detail - after all this is a Scorose story - but they will be mentioned). I trust that any ideas anyone passes on will be their own - if you borrow something from someone else's story please_ _please_ _ensure you ask them for permission first please. I don't want to get accused of stealing anyone else's ideas._

 _ **Trigger warning for this chapter**_ _- very brief mention of suicide._

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ _main characters aren't mine._

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Sitting Ducks**

Scorpius Malfoy was starting to think that the entire cosmos was plotting against him.

He'd flooed his father when he left the Headmaster's Office on Tuesday, in dire need of letting off steam and getting some sympathy.

He was sorely disappointed.

"Sounds like Rose was pretty concerned about you," his father's coal-borne face said in a relatively unaffected tone. Scorpius physically sputtered at the comment.

"How is that what you take away from that story?!" He exclaimed rather madly as he fixed his atrocious hair. So many knots. So, so many knots.

"She came to see you after you took a personal day," the face gave an expression that roughly translated to a shrug, "Sounds like she wanted to check in on you. Very thoughtful of her."

Scorpius hadn't actually told his father about Rose confessing to wanting to check in on him and how delighted he was by the information. He had thought it was irrelevant given what had occurred at the end of their impromptu catch up. His father, apparently, didn't seem to think that her firing on him in the comfort of his own quarters was worth taking note of.

"Thoughtful?!" Scorpius wondered if his father heard anything he'd said, "She put me _in a body bind_!"

"Only after she was provoked," his father defending his nemesis was just the cherry on top of the clusterfuck his day had been. Maybe the old man was having a stroke. Maybe he should owl his mother and tell her to take him to St. Mungos immediately.

"I'm sorry, can you hear me properly?" Scorpius questioned indignantly, "I was left paralysed on the floor for _forty fucking minutes!_ "

Draco's response was rapid-fire. "Well that's better than being left paralysed for an hour, now isn't it."

Scorpius would punch the fire if he wasn't going to burn his hand. And even then, it would almost be worth it. "Yes, just like a punch to the throat is better than a kick to the groin. I can't believe you're taking her side on this."

"I'm not taking sides," Draco said, clearly taking sides, "I'm just saying that maybe this isn't as big a deal as you seem to think."

"She broke into my quarters!"

"To check in on you," Draco countered.

"She disrupted my classroom!" Scorpius exclaimed, voice becoming more erratic.

"No, she covered your class at the behest of her boss," his father's response was annoyingly diplomatic.

"She said she volunteered for them!"

Draco gave a meaningful pause before (very condescendingly) asking, "Which is an issue because…?"

" _Because Rose Weasley should not be in my potions lab!"_ Scorpius exclaimed with perhaps a touch more feeling than he intended. He would argue he sounded passionate, others may argue he sounded certifiably insane.

"Well if you're going to take a personal day to do research someone has to cover your classes," he imagined his father picking at his fingernails in a bored tic of his, like his son complaining about being paralysed was such an inconvenience and not at all something he should be sympathetic of, "Why not Rose?"

"Because she's not qualified!"

"Who is besides yourself?

Well fuck. That had him stumped. Scorpius tried desperately to think of something that would be somewhat convincing. "…Longbottom could have done it," he finally justified. His father snorted at him. _Snorted._

"Ok, for one - the Headmaster shouldn't be covering a random second year potions class. And secondly, Neville was awful at potions when we were at school together, I doubt he's improved any. Sounds like Rose did you a favour."

 _How was Neville Fucking Longbottom more horrified at Rose Weasley's actions than his own fucking father?!_

"She did it to antagonise me!"

"How, exactly, was she going to antagonise you when you weren't even there?" Draco questioned. Scorpius really hated that his father kept making him justify his outbursts. How his mother put up with the man for 30 odd years was honestly beyond him.

"She undermines my teaching methods." Good, that sounded like a perfectly reasonable point.

"How?"

"By being all…kind, and…" he struggled to find an adequate way to describe it, "and _Rose-like_."

"And how does one behave 'Rose-like'?" his father asked it in a tone that suggested he didn't believe being 'Rose-like' was something regular humans were capable of. Scorpius would argue that his father was actually completely true - no regular human was capable of being as annoying as Rose Weasley. When he tried to justify his position, Scorpius realised that he didn't exactly know how to put it into words. It was like trying to describe a colour to someone that was blind - he could list different aspects, but it meant absolutely nothing unless you experienced it for yourself. And it would appear that the only person antagonised by Rose Weasley was Scorpius Malfoy.

"By being charming, and smiling, and _encouraging laughter_!" Scorpius spat the words. His father's face raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, that sounds awful," he droned, clearly attempting to be sarcastic. Scorpius ignored it.

"It is!" he defended passionately.

"How dare she be _likeable_." Scorpius didn't appreciate the emphasis put on the final word nor did he appreciate the sarcastic eye-roll that accompanied it.

"It's not likeable! It's aggravating!" he crossed his arms and added in a mutter, "Not to mention now my quarters _and_ my potions lab smell like her. I can't bloody escape it anymore. It's like someone's marinated all my safe spaces in Amortentia."

" _What?!_ "

Well shit. Scorpius mentally removed the giant foot he'd just shoved into his mouth. He swore to Merlin he was actually getting stupider as the hours went by. He let a beat of silence pass and tried his best to give an unconvincing, " _Hmmm?_ " in response, as if he didn't realise what he'd just said or what it indicated.

"You smell Rose in your Amortentia?" Draco's expression was a mix between incredulous and frustrated. Scorpius was quite sure his father would _very wrongly_ assume that this was the sure fire sign that Weasley was his One True Mate. However, he clearly underestimated his son's stubbornness and dedication to ignoring the fact that kept hitting him over the head like a hexed bludger.

"No," Scorpius stated and prided himself on his ability to sound incredibly reasonable, "I smell a number of different scents, _some of which_ just so happen to follow Rose around like a particularly bad stench. But let's not jump to conclusions-"

And then his father just, kind of, exploded.

" _In the name of all that is magical, get your shit together!_ " the older man exclaimed, sparks firing out of his face in the fireplace so violently that Scorpius had to lean away from it to avoid getting his eyebrows singed off (because that's what he needed on top of his ruined hair - singed off eyebrows. Just brilliant), "Fighting this is just going to make the two of you miserable!"

Scorpius was very tempted to tell his father the last person he intended to get advice about happiness from was the man that, to this day, barely laughed. Besides, the inference was that not fighting it would make them both happy, but that wasn't exactly a guarantee either. What if he tried to pursue Rose and she just shut him down? Not exactly a one-way path to eternal sunshine, now was it. His father interrupted his inner musings.

"Re-read those books you took home, Scorpius," Draco said in a more measured tone, "I'm sure there's a few things you're forgetting about how this is supposed to work."

"I don't think there is," Scorpius counted, "Besides, the only thing I'm looking for is how to break this stupid bond."

"Well there's a very good chance that's just not possible," his father was apparently done with entertaining Scorpius' attempts at denial, "And the only option you're going to have is to make the best of the hand you've been dealt. And that might just include stopping this pointless opposition to your biology."

People fought their biology all the damn time - they changed their hair colour, their eye colour, they morphed into animals for crying out loud. Surely Scorpius was more than within his rights to fight the bird part of his brain. If there was anyone in the history of Malfoys that was born to defy stereotypes and go against the norm of the family, it was Scorpius.

 _(Something inside him muttered that there was probably nothing he could do that was more against the norm than being destined to love a Weasley forever and always, but he ignored that part of his brain_.)

"You didn't raise a quitter, father," he smiled arrogantly, "I'll only accept that fate when everything else has proved useless."

Draco sighed heavily in response.

"Fine, but you know word about this is bound to get out eventually," Scorpius' smile had been arrogant; his father's was sly, "You should probably figure out a way to undo all this before your mother finds out - you know what a hopeless romantic she is. I'm sure she'll find this whole thing _so_ adorable."

Scorpius felt the blood drain from his face. He could fight his father. He could fight a centuries-old curse. He could fight this internal demon.

He could _not_ fight Astoria Malfoy when it came to matters of love.

"That's a low blow," he muttered to his father, "Even for you."

"I'm a dedicated husband, Scorpius," Draco's expression was victorious, "I'd hate to keep such happy news from your mother."

"She'll interfere with everything," he wasn't too proud to admit it came out as more of a whine.

"Then I suggest you get to work," his father stated as if it was that fucking easy, "Good luck breaking that bond, son. And if that fails, good luck convincing Rose Weasley you're charming."

"I'm not going to fold that easily!" he called defiantly. His father's face smiled back at him.

"Of course you won't," he shrugged, "I'm not as strong-willed as you though. If you mother just so happens to ask after you, I might just be compelled to tell her about your little predicament."

"Please don't."

"Get a move on. Or I'm telling her everything."

And with that, his father's face disappeared into regular flames once more. Blackmailed by his own father. This day just got better and better.

* * *

To add further insult to the brain haemorrhage that was the conversation with his father, Scorpius' additional research on his condition was not exactly giving him hope. He'd read most of the resources he'd brought back from the Manor and realised there was not a lot of information on breaking the bond. It seemed none of his predecessors were as horrified with the condition as Scorpius was, in fact many them seemed to be overjoyed with the ability to fly and shoot fireballs when provoked. They seemed to deliberately gloss over the impacts of having a soul mate or the implications of what it meant for their independence. It seemed blissful ignorance had been a trait just as genetic as the blonde hair in the Malfoy bloodline. Mighty inconsiderate of them.

Scorpius also discovered that, as far as he could tell, all of his relatives stopped taking their suppressants upon leaving school. It seemed that they only used it to minimise symptoms to ensure it didn't interfere with their education, then promptly got all veela-y once they hit eighteen. This meant that no one really had any information for what to do if you didn't like who your mate was, or how to function as an adult with no suppressant when you didn't _want_ to fully awaken your veela. It seemed that no one else had even attempted to break the bond.

Well, he would just have to be the dark sheep of the family and try something new, wouldn't he.

The closest case he could find when he dug very, very deep into the Malfoy archives was a case of a very old, very dead man named Galorian Malfoy (cursed with both veela-hood _and_ an atrocious name the poor bastard). Galorian's soulmate had been killed when they were relatively young, and from what Scorpius could gather, they'd barely met let alone spent any time together. Despite that minor detail, when the woman - who's name wasn't written down, because why worry about honouring a woman who had the absolute audacity to die before popping out an heir - died, Galorian, the miserable sod, was so heartbroken he went and drowned himself in a lake. There were a few references to " _despite the best efforts of the most renowned alchemists, wizards, and warlocks of the region, no one could mend the break inside Galorian_." Scorpius assumed, especially given the presence of an alchemist, that severing the emotional attachment between his relative and the unnamed woman had been quite extensive, and yet, unsuccessful. Galorian and his unnamed mate were never mentioned again, mental health apparently as offensive as half-blood children to the Malfoy dynasty. It was hard to take any hard evidence from the tale of Galorian, Scorpius reasoned, after all, how accurate was a tome that had been written sometime during the dark ages and needed to be transcribed every hundred years or so to ensure it still made sense as language evolved. Maybe some things had gotten lost in translation. The sinking feeling in his gut, however, indicated that part of him knew Galorian's tale was basically true - a soulmate-less male veela would rather die than live without his beloved.

So, fall in love with Rose Weasley, or die. How did his life become such a mess that those were his only choices?

Unfortunately, the bad news didn't end there.

Now that Scorpius' veela had apparently awoken, he paid a bit more attention to the information he could find on what this whole soulmate bonding schtick really meant. He was not thrilled by what he discovered. There were multiple references to 'mating' and 'claiming'. And, if Scorpius was reading between the lines correctly, that meant sex.

Sex.

With Rose Weasley.

He needed to lie down before he fainted.

All the writings indicated that mating was supposedly out-of-this-world fantastic in more ways than one. It was written that a veela would find a sense of settlement and calm once the mating had occurred. His veela would still be there - having sex wasn't going to change his genetic material - but it wouldn't be as insistent. One of the earliest entries that many later generation veelas seemed to agree with, described the process as becoming whole; that they experienced something close to becoming 'one' instead of 'two-halves'. There seemed to be less of a split between the veela and the human parts of his brain after the mating occurred; the intrusive thoughts settled, and the bird brain became a much quieter murmur rather than a controlling force. He would be lying if he said that didn't sound pretty bloody great.

Once bonded, the veela and his mate could never be separated, and were always somewhat linked. It wasn't a full telepathic bond – they couldn't speak to each other using their minds – but they would be able to sense how the other one was feeling. When they were angry, when they were sad, when they were in danger. There were a few cases of Malfoy men transforming into fully-fledged veelas at apparently random intervals when their soulmates had been threatened on the other side of the world. He thanked his lucky stars that Rose chose to be a professor and not follow in the footsteps of her father. If she was an auror he'd spend his whole fucking life as a bird-person. Thank the creators for small mercies, he supposed.

The Malfoys, fundamentally repressed as they were, didn't exactly go into details about their sex life (thank the creators!), but even in their most reserved of terms Scorpius could gather that the _physical chemistry_ between soulmates was palpable and unlike anything they'd experienced before. Scorpius read a passage from one of his relatives which described 'copulating' with his mate as being so euphoric that they hadn't left bed for several days after finding each other. So his relatives were horny bastards as well as pureblood bastards. He certainly came from 'good stock'. Everyone seemed to agree it wasn't just love or lust - it was something _more._

And wasn't that just fucking terrifying.

He didn't even _like_ his apparent soulmate, now he was supposed to be more-than-in-love with her? That was just bloody ridiculous. The only thing more ridiculous was the possibility that Rose would ever feel that way about him.

( _It didn't make him sad. It didn't. That pang in his chest was completely unrelated to his research. He was probably just having a minor heart attack. No big deal._ )

Despite how the journals tried to paint the whole affliction as a gracious gift and soulmate bonding as unparalleled joy, the language of it sounded a bit concerning to Scorpius. He didn't like the notion of 'claiming'; it related far too closely to the concept of 'owning' someone. The idea that Rose Weasley would be his property was not something that he found appealing. For one, it was archaic and problematic and had far too many parallels to slavery; and secondly, the prospect of him informing Rose that he intended to 'claim her' was likely to end with him having to explain to a Mediwitch why he had several porcupine quills stuck in unmentionable places. And just as he had pondered at his father's, he would hate the idea that he was essentially casting a spell on someone to make them love him forever. It seemed just as rotten as drugging someone with Amortentia every day of their lives. The fact that it happened without Scorpius being consciously aware of it didn't change that fact.

The more he read, the more conflicted he became. On the one hand, 15 years of fighting meant that the idea of spending the rest of his life with Rose Weasley was enough to give him a hernia. On the other hand, if being with Rose meant that he would never have to worry about his veela interfering with his life again, then that would be a pretty big incentive to just bite the bullet and at least try to be amicable with Rose. He tried to make a physical list of pros and cons to try to be objective. The list ended up looking thusly:

Pros:

\- Bird brain would be under control and would stop trying to manipulate him

\- Sex would be fantastic

\- Would stop getting weird itching under his skin

\- Someone else to have tea with in the afternoon

\- Would be able to sleep without having to effectively drug himself to the point of unconsciousness

\- His father would stop harassing him about giving in to his veela

\- His mother would stop harassing him about dying alone

Cons:

\- Life with Rose Weasley

\- Life with Rose Weasley who was essentially drugged into liking him

Basically, he was doomed. As if he didn't already know that.

* * *

The next two days had gone relatively normally, all things considered. Scorpius returned to teaching classes and eating in the Great Hall. Rose was absent due to her late night classes (at least that's what he'd assumed, she may have just been avoiding him). The students made a few snide comments and whispered remarks about him and Rose, which usually resulted in him taking house points off them to the anger of all their classmates.

He'd resorted to knocking himself out with sleeping draughts and calming draughts each night to get a few hours of sleep. There was still something under his skin that awoke at night when he felt tired, something that kept drawing him back to the Astronomy Tower. He ignored it the best he could and usually, come morning, he could resume functioning like a basically normal adult. The tugging at his stomach and burning in his lungs returned but he was getting better at ignoring it. It did make him overly irritable though. But the only people who suffered for that were the students, a fact he could deal with.

Surprisingly, Scorpius found himself standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, lantern in hand, far earlier than was strictly necessary on Thursday evening. He reasoned with himself that he was just eager for this to be over; not eager to see Rose. Nope. That definitely wasn't it.

The fact that something inside him (possibly his heart, possibly his stomach) leapt up into his throat at the sight of her as she crossed the lawn to meet him on the edge of the forest, dark robes billowing around her, was _totally_ coincidental. She carried a lantern in one hand, a bucket in the other and he could already see from here that her face was set in a scowl.

Seemed he was going to be having detention with 'Angry Rose'. What fun.

He opened his mouth to greet her - was even planning to be down right _pleasant_ \- when she cut him off.

"Shut-up," she snapped, eyes focused on the ground and not him.

"You know there's these things called manners-"

"I need to get this out of the way," she said in a rush before steeling herself; he could see the inner turmoil flitting across her features, "I'm sorry for breaking into your room. And I'm sorry for paralysing you. It wasn't fair. I just…"

She seemed to argue with herself internally for several moments. Scorpius didn't interrupt - an apology from Rose Weasley that wasn't ordered by a Professor or the Headmaster was absolutely unheard of. Catching a unicorn that could play the piano was statistically more likely. He was going to enjoy these moments as long as he could.

"Merlin you're so frustrating sometimes," she was still frowning at the ground. He had an odd desire to tilt her head up to make her look him in the eye, "You make me angrier than anyone else, and it makes me do stupid things, and I don't think before I act, and I don't know why it's only you that has that effect on me!"

Rose finally looked up at him and he was delighted to see that she was blushing. He tried not to look too pleased with himself, but if the way she was scowling at him was anything to go by, he'd say he failed.

"See! Even now! That stupid grin on your stupid face," she pointed to his mouth and she really shouldn't have because it just made him smile wider, "It just…you just make me so mad."

"Is this your idea of an apology? Because I'll be honest - it could use some work," he said, but his tone wasn't as cutting as it usually was. She muttered something under her breath that he was fairly certain he didn't want translated. Scorpius decided to continue speaking to prevent her from having the opportunity to mutter a hex.

"I accept your apology, Weasley," he said with a toned-down smile, "If I had to give it a rating I'd say the sentiment scored a 7 out of 10, but execution was about a 3. So work on that for next time."

He honestly didn't know how or why he was such an asshole.

She stood before him, looking at him expectantly for several moments. He held eye contact with her (which was a goddam mistake because her eyes were really blue and when the wind twisted around them he could smell her perfume and part of him really wanted to step closer and examine those lips that had been haunting him), and waited. Eventually, she spoke.

"Well?" Rose said, gesturing to him.

"Yes?"

"Now it's your turn to apologise."

"I'm sorry?"

She looked unimpressed, "Is that it?"

"That wasn't an apology," he amended, and he probably shouldn't be smiling, "I was seeking clarification."

"For what?"

"For what I'm supposed to be apologising for," he said as if it were obvious. Apparently it was not.

She was silent for a beat before spitting, "Are you kidding?"

He snorted. "When have I ever kidded with you, Weasley?"

"You're supposed to apologise for being a prick!"

"Ha! When have I ever apologised for that?!" He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, "Merlin you're hilarious sometimes."

"Malfoy!" She stomped her foot, "I said I was sorry!"

Poor little Rosie, once more making the utterly wrong assumption that he would play fair. It was like she didn't know him at all some days.

"As you should have," he picked at his nails, "You're lucky that I'm gracious enough to accept it."

She crossed her arms and muttered, "You're lucky I'm gracious enough not to stick my foot up your ass."

And then Scorpius did something that horrified him - he laughed. He laughed at Rose's quick reply, openly and with genuine enjoyment. She looked at him like he'd grown a second head. It was probably the first time she'd heard him laugh without it being in condescension or mockery. She looked shocked at the prospect. He didn't blame her; he felt a little bit odd about the whole thing himself.

There was a moment, ever so brief, that Scorpius looked down at Rose Weasley who was looking up at him, eyes wide and dancing in the lantern light, the sounds of the forest whispering around them, the whole setting mildly romantic, and he thought absently that now would be a very perfect time to kiss her. He could do it. He could lean down, press his lips to hers and see once and for all if she really was his soul mate. See if all this talk of physical chemistry and unbridled passion lived up to the hype. That would be the only reason he'd do it - to test his theory. It was just more research, that was all. Nothing more to it. He definitely didn't view it as a new challenge, see which of them would win in driving the other mad in a whole new type of battle.

Fucking hell he needed to get his hands on that Monkshood.

Scorpius was, thankfully, prevented from convincing himself from doing any 'research' with the arrival of the four students they were supervising. He recognised two of them as fifth years he'd heard had been caught making out in a broom closet after curfew - Alastair Angelman and Keely Pullman, who had been 'on again off again' since third year - one third year Hufflepuff student who'd hexed an older Slytherin student who was bullying a first year - Leon Warthoff, good kid - and a Ravenclaw fourth year - Daisy Brookworth - that got on his nerves in all of his classes, but couldn't recall what she was in for.

"Good evening students," Rose announced cheerfully, it was like she flicked a switch whenever she was talking to anyone except him, "How are we all feeling this pleasant Thursday evening?"

The question was met with a chorus of grunts and non-answers. Scorpius could empathise with them; it wasn't as if he was thrilled to be here either.

"Right," Rose said, sounding entirely professional and completely disregarding the fact that she'd threatened to stick her foot up his ass not three minutes earlier, "Tonight's detention in the Forbidden Forest is expected to go for two hours. Professor Grubbly-Plank has advised that there is a colony of Hippogriffs with newborns that require additional food round the clock," she lifted the bucket of dead ferrets and insects, shaking it meaningfully, "So we'll be dropping them some much needed nutrients. There's been a few blast-ended skrewts getting out and about lately too, so I advise you all to keep your eyes peeled to avoid getting a nasty surprise. Any questions?"

All four hands shot up.

"Yes Daisy?" Rose asked, sounding a tad exasperated.

"Isn't this too dangerous for us?" The girl sounded panicked, "We haven't even covered blast-ended skrewts in Care of Magical Creatures yet! What are we supposed to do if we see one?!"

"Pray," Scorpius supplied, a tad unhelpfully if the elbow he had dug into his ribs by Weasley was anything to go off. He smiled down at the glare she was giving him.

"Professor Malfoy will be walking a few paces ahead of the rest of the group to make sure the path is clear," Rose replied, and Scorpius was fairly sure she just made that up on the spot. He wanted to argue that Neville had clearly told them this was designed to encourage them to get along, and therefore they should probably be within talking distance, but he decided against it.

"Indeed," he said instead, addressing the students, "But I have notoriously bad night vision so don't trust my judgement too much."

Daisy swallowed audibly. He heard Rose sigh disdainfully beside him. Was he being difficult just for the sake of being difficult? Absolutely. Was he going to stop anytime soon? Not a chance. Rose turned her attention to Alastair Angelman.

"Yes, Alastair?" She asked, voice incredibly too cheerful considering they were on detention duty in the middle of the night.

"What do we do if we see an Acromantula?" He asked a tad desperately, "Because I heard they can be bloody _massive_ and I don't like-I mean, I don't want the girls to freak out and- "

"Worry not, Angelman!" Scorpius answered with a smile, "I doubt you'll see an Acromantula in the forest."

The boy let out a relieved breath before Scorpius added, "They're much too quick and silent for that. You'll probably only realise one's around once it's already caught you in it's web, by which time there's nothing you can do besides patiently wait to be eaten."

The boy's face drained of all colour. Rose elbowed him again.

"What Professor Malfoy is _trying_ to say is that there's no risk of that - there have been no Acromantula colonies in the forest for thirty years," Rose answered with a reassuring smile. The boy did not seem overly appeased, sweat dripping from his brow. Scorpius found it mildly entertaining.

"Any other questions?" Scorpius looked over the group, all students still holding up their hands, "No? Excellent! Off we go!"

He turned, lantern in front of him and began the trek into the forest. Scorpius checked his pocket watch - two hours alone in a forest with Rose Weasley and four students. He could do this. No problem. Everything would be fine.

* * *

An hour later and everything was not fine.

They were deep in the forest and had located the Hippogriff family Phillipa had requested they feed. The beasts were particularly territorial given they had little ones with them, so Rose instructed the students to keep a comfortable distance and make no sudden movements. She showed the students how to offer the food to the animals, speaking in hushed tones and going about the activity like she always fed the dangerous beasts close to midnight; like this wasn't completely abnormal for any of them. That said, her uncle was _the_ Charlie Weasley, so this probably was a figurative walk in the park for Rose.

Scorpius, by comparison, was not calm at all.

The deeper they got into the forest, the more edgy he became. He snapped at the students, his eyes darting between trees and beasts they came across, his hand twitching for his wand every few steps. What had started as low level anxiousness had steadily progressed and was now getting to the point of being overwhelming. He couldn't stand with the rest of them feeding the Hippogriffs, muttering to Rose that he was going to walk a little further just to make sure nothing was likely to sneak up on them. He left the lantern behind, instead relying on his wand to light his path. He just couldn't shake it - this feeling of _wrongness_ simmering under his skin.

When he came to a clearing, everything got far, far worse. Something felt like it was crawling up his spine. There was an unease he felt right in his bones that was almost tangible in the air around him. His muscles were tense. The hair on his arms were on end. His stomach had dropped. It was as if he could feel each drop of blood coursing through his bloodstream; running in tendrils, spiralling through his out of control system. His feet wanted to run. His blood was pumping as if he already was. His breathing was heavy, his lungs felt like they were made of iron in his chest. His fingers were flexed as if clawing at something. Every sound made him twitch, like he was hyperaware of each crack of a tree branch, each call of an animal all around him. Even the wind seemed louder. Everything in him wanted to run. He was so enveloped by panic he wasn't even sure where he was. His vision swam between focusing on every minute detail to not seeing anything at all.

There was only one thing outweighing his desire to run and his feeling of panic - his need to find Rose.

Something in his head - he couldn't really call it a voice because he couldn't distinguish any specific words - was urging him to find her. It was wrapped in panic, an urgency that he couldn't silence. He needed to find Rose. He didn't know why, and he didn't know what was causing it, but he needed to find her and then he needed to run.

He didn't even realise he was calling out her name until she hissed at him angrily.

"Merlin I'm _here_ ," she exclaimed, appearing beside a tree on the opposite side of the clearing, stumbling over the mess of roots covering the forest floor, "What's wrong?"

"We need to go," he said taking a few steps forward, the itching in his skin growing to the point of heat, "We need to get out of here. _Now_."

"What?" She looked as him like he was speaking a language she didn't understand, "No, there's like an hour left of detention. If we don't-"

"Now. Right now. We need to leave. Where are the students?"

Rose looked over him and seemed to sense that something was very wrong. That same look of concern she'd shown fleetingly earlier in the week reappeared across her features as she took a small step towards him.

"They're a few paces back still feeding the Hippogriffs," she slowed her words, her voice full of worry, "Malfoy, what's wrong?"

"Something's not right," his voice sounded foreign to his own ears - frightened and anxious beyond comprehension, "Something…The forest…We just…we need to go."

"Ok, how about we just take a few deep breaths," Rose said taking another step closer to him which was exactly the opposite direction to what she should be moving, "I know it's not the most pleasant of places but-"

Her voice faded out of his consciousness. Every sound in the forest was silenced except one - heavy breathing, a low growl, trampling of leaves, steps coming closer. Something in him knew each sound, each movement, belonged to the same beast. The sounds were so tangible that he could almost see the beast in his mind, something that wouldn't strike him as strange until long after tonight. The right side of his body tingled. He spun to face the trees at the right side of the clearing. Rose attempted to get his attention.

"Malfoy are you listening to me?"

"Quiet!" His eyes scanned the trees at the edge of the clearing, his shoulders tense around his ears and wand clasped at his side, "Something's here."

Rose looked to the eerie blackness Scorpius was focused on, taking a small step forward, "Maybe it's a Centaur?"

She sounded hopeful rather than speculative.

"No," Scorpius shook his head and raised his hand, wand pointed at a faint black mass that was shifting between the trees, "Something else."

A low growl came from the edge of the clearing and bright yellow eyes emerged.

"Malfoy?" her voice sounded tiny. He wanted to tell her it would all be alright. But he didn't want to lie to her.

Large black hooves glistened in the faint moonlight as the beast stepped forward.

"Get the children out of here," he ordered.

"Malfoy?" Rose's voice wavered. He wanted to go to her, to hold her, but he needed to protect her more. He took a step towards the beast.

"We are in danger," the words came out as a rough command, he stepped into the clearing, "Get the children out of the forest, Rose."

Yellow eyes grew in the moonlight to expose a lion's face, mane large and mouth ajar, pointed teeth glistening.

"Is that what I think it is?" Rose's voice was breathless and terrified. Rightfully so.

Tree branches broke as the snake-like tail snapped through the air soundlessly. The growl became a roar as the animal - or rather, amalgamation of animals - stopped barely meters ahead of them, tail whipping back and forth as it sized up its prey.

 _Chimaera._

One of the deadliest beasts in existence and it was maybe six meters away from them. Just. Fucking. Great.

As if sensing the increase in danger and consciously picking the worst possible time to reappear, the students came stumbling loudly from Rose's direction.

"Professor Weasley!" one of the called, presumably Leon, "Professor! We finished feeding the Hippogriffs! Where do we-OH FUCK!"

Leon stumbled back so quickly he tripped over a number of roots, falling rather spectacularly onto his ass. Daisy came up behind him, puzzled as to what was happening right before she saw the beast and reacted in exactly the same manner.

Great, two students who've fallen over their feet in the span of seconds. He simply did not have time for this.

"Go back to the castle, children," Rose muttered quietly, standing protectively in front of them and trying to move as little as possible, "Alert Headmaster Longbottom that there is a Chimaera in the Forbidden Forest. Go now."

"But professor-"

" _Go_ ," she insisted, tone leaving no room for discussion. Daisy and Leon seemed to understand this was no time to argue, and turned to flee, Alastair and Keely following in their wake. They walked quickly as directed, trying to make as little noise as possible and failing rather spectacularly. The Chimaera watched them with keen eyes, a low growl being emitted from deep within the belly of the beast. Scorpius deliberately stepped on a stick to gain the beast's attention, much to Rose's horror.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed in a whisper, eyes darting between where Scorpius stood and where the beast was between them, it's attention moving to Scorpius, its teeth bared.

"Buying you time," he didn't blink, his mind racing with a variety of spells he could use to keep it busy, "Get back to the castle with the students."

"I'm not leaving you alone with that thing." Of course. Of course it was too much to ask that Rose would just choose to _not_ be stubborn for one bloody minute.

"Now's no time to be a hero, Weasley."

"It's no time to be an idiot either, Malfoy."

"And yet there you stand."

"Really? _Really?!"_ She hissed at him in exasperation, "We're facing off against a five-X classified beast and you're gunna use what might be your last minutes to insult me?!"

He smiled despite the tense atmosphere, "I always wanted to die doing what I loved."

"You're _not_ going to die," her voice wavered but he had to applaud her attempt to fake bravery. So very Gryffindor, "We're just going to move away from it slowly, and maybe it will go on its way."

He would have snorted at her if he wasn't quite so close to shitting himself, "How many times have you passed up a banquet, Weasley? It probably thinks all its Christmases have come at once."

" _This. Isn't. Helping." s_ he muttered through gritted teeth, frozen next to the tree. He really, really wished she'd just turn and run. He could protect her enough for her to get out of the forest. He just needed to buy her a little bit of time, that was all. He really wished she didn't insist on being such a goddam hero.

"What the fuck is a Chimaera doing in the forest, anyway?" Scorpius asked, stepping away from the creature slowly and towards Rose, his wand drawn but pointing at the ground so as not to startle the beast.

"I don't know," Rose murmured, finally moving backwards also, her steps equally light and cautious, "It must have something to do with the Triwizard tournament."

"I thought the whole point of doing the blasted thing again was to show people that it could happen _without_ students dying!" he exclaimed incredulously. Don't get him wrong - there were a number of students that he wouldn't exactly be upset about never interacting with again. But even he could acknowledge that the death of a student would be an unfortunate event. Not to mention that there would be some very sick sense of de ja vu if a student were to be eaten by a Chimaera at the Cedric Diggory Memorial Triwizard Tournament.

Scorpius noticed something quite horrifying as he took slow, measured steps towards the edge of the clearing where Rose stood - the Chimaera wasn't interested in him. At all. It would appraise him as if to size him up, assess him, then direct its attention back to Rose, looking at her like he looked at a roast turkey. Scorpius kept stomping every once in a while to draw the animal's attention back to him, something that his companion did not appreciate.

"Stop doing that!" Rose hissed at him, her wand hand quivering in fear, "You're making it angry."

 _Merlin he needed her to get out of here._

"It's a Chimaera - it's always angry," he told her, eyes fixed on the beast, "Get out of here Rose."

"I already told you I'm not leaving you alone with it," she squared her shoulders and Merlin help him he'd be impressed if she wasn't likely to literally die. He had images of drowning himself in a lake like Galorian - not how he intended to leave this world, "If we stick together-"

"No!" his voice was louder than he anticipated, the animal seemed to interpret it as a threat, roaring at him in response. Scorpius felt every hair in his body stand on end but his feet didn't budge. He maintained eye contact with it and hoped like hell that the monster couldn't see how terrified he was. He was still doing a frantic mental search for what possible spell he could use to keep the creature at bay. He was coming up very short.

"Please Rose," he hated that he sounded like he was pleading but desperate times called for desperate measures, "Get out of here."

The creature took a small step towards Rose; Scorpius flicked his wand causing the ground just in front of its foot to explode. The Chimaera stepped back, mane flaring out and ears twitching in the universal symbol of ' _I'm pissed'_.

"What, you think I'm going to cramp your style?" Rose asked angrily, conjuring small bubbles of light above the creature's head in an attempt to distract it. It was a valiant attempt, but ultimately in vain - the beast simply whipped at them with its tail, it's eyes not moving off Rose for longer than a few seconds at a time.

"I'm sending for Phillipa," she announced as she cast her patronus out into the forest behind them. Scorpius was a little dumbfounded at what he saw.

"You're kidding," he breathed, watching as the being made of silvery light moved soundlessly through the forest towards the castle.

"What?" she asked, eyes not moving from the Chimaera.

"Your patronus is a fucking _peacock_?"

" _Is that really your most pressing concern right now?!_ " she hissed back at him.

At that moment the beast took two quick steps closer to Rose, forcing Scorpius to blast its back legs to prevent it from advancing. The beast recovered quickly, roaring at Scorpius and turning to face him. Finally. _Now if Rose would just think of her own survival for two fucking minutes and start running, maybe this would all end…in an ok-ish way._

"No," Scorpius muttered, his brain rather unhelpfully providing a brief rundown of all the ways the beast could tear him limb from limb, "My biggest concern right now is stopping you from being _eaten_."

"And I'm stopping _you_ from being eaten," Rose countered, casting a spell to bind the animal's two front legs in rope. It worked. For almost a full five seconds. The beast simply roared and tore the binds, it's anger now directed back at Rose again. Oh spite.

Scorpius whistled before conjuring another blast that successfully stunned the beast for a few precious moments.

"You've chosen the absolute worst moment to decide you'd like me to live, Rose!"

"And you've chosen a pretty wretched time to think of someone other than yourself, Scorpius!" She pointed her wand at the branches above the Chimaera's head, " _Bombardo!"_

The branches exploded where they attached to the tree, falling in a flurry of splinters and small flames. The Chimaera attempted to dodge them, but couldn't escape them all. The branches crashed on and around the beast, silencing the it's roars and burying it in a pile of timber and dirt.

Scorpius and Rose stood looking at the pile of branches for several moments, wands pointed towards the wreck in anticipation. Not a sound. Not a movement.

Rose looked at him with a proud little smile.

"I can't believe that worked," she breathed.

Neither could he. Because he was fairly sure it didn't.

The anxiousness had not subsided. The terror in his blood had not gone away. Something in him knew - the threat wasn't gone yet.

There was a sound like a whip cracking, and Scorpius could do nothing to stop one of the heavy branches flying out of the pack towards Rose. She let out a scream as it hit her in the chest, throwing her backwards, her wand flying out of her hand. The branch rolled off her but Rose didn't get up. _Why wasn't she getting up?_ The Chimaera's tail whipped around another branch, threw it out towards Scorpius but he ducked under it, throwing curses and spells at random as he tried to get to Rose.

The beast emerged atop the small mountain of timber, letting out a roar with its yellow eyes gleaming. The next moments seemed to happen in terrifying slow motion.

The beast whipped its snake-like tail around quickly to take Scorpius' legs out from under him.

It turned to face Rose, eyes burning brightly.

Rose reached desperately for her dropped wand, fear painted across her face.

Scorpius screamed for her, scrambling to shield her.

The Chimaera sunk low and prepared to pounce.

And then the world went black.

* * *

 _Aaaaaand scene. Talk about a cliffhanger right?_

 _A few notes: because a Chimaera is in so many different mythologies and varies from story to story, I chose to base mine on the version that appears on the Harry Potter wiki (available at harrypotter . wikia wiki / chimaera_ _). Also there's a few different ways of spelling Chimaera, and again I've gone with what's on the Harry Potter wikia._

 _I'm not good at action-tension and much more prefer sexual tension so forgive the choppy action sequence - it will not be a regular occurrence haha._

 _Hope you enjoyed, again drop me a review if you've got the time. They really brighten my day._

 _All my love and I hope your new years brings you exactly enough of everything you need._

 _Grae xo_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Wow. That cliffhanger really got you guys reviewing. I'll remember that…. Jokes! But in all seriousness thanks for all the lovely reviews. They really make my day. I get a real kick out of reading them, especially knowing what I've already written for the next chapter and comparing it to your predictions and requests. It's a lot of fun_

 _To everyone who's given me ideas for the Triwizard tournament – THANK YOU! I hope to get back to you all shortly. You're all incredibly creative and thoughtful and have come up with some wonderful things that I never could have dreamt up._

 _This chapter asks you to suspend your belief when it comes to portkeys. Let's just all pretend they could work this way, ok? :)_

 _Now, onward and upward_

* * *

 **Chapter 7 – Goose Bumps**

All there is, is darkness.

He can't breathe. His lungs are on fire.

He's floating.

Or flying.

No.

No he's not in the air.

He's in the water.

He's drowning.

Oh _fuck_ he's _drowning_.

Scorpius kicks his legs furiously to try and get himself towards the water's edge, but he's surrounded by black and he doesn't know if he's kicking towards the surface or closer to the bottom. He panics. How can he get out of here? Where is his wand? Why doesn't he have a wand? Why is he in water? Where's the chimaera? What happened? How did he get here? Where is here? Merlin Almighty is this it? Has Rose died and his veela's decided to finish him off just like poor old Galorian? Is this how he dies? Drowning?! _After fucking detention?!_

Wait.

IS HE IN THE CHIMAERA'S STOMACH?! FUCK. FUCK FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

The instinct to open his mouth and try to suck in air is overwhelming - he opens his mouth, it fills with water making everything a lot fucking worse. His chest feels like it's being crushed. The pain is intense. There's water filling his lungs and going up his nose and in his ears and he can't see anything but darkness and there's nothing but water and the pain is everywhere.

Something wraps around his waist. He clings to it, a literal life line, and feels himself being pulled back into something else. Maybe it's the Giant Squid? No, no it's another body. Human. Probably. Someone else is submerged in this literal abyss with him. Sweet Merlin let them please know what they're doing. The body starts propelling them both upwards abnormally fast - they mustn't just be swimming, they must be using magic. Thank the heavens for that.

He's freezing and burning at the same time. The world's going black again, but this time it's a gradual fading, not a sudden loss of perception. The pain is agonising. He digs his fingernails into the arm around his waist. Please get them out of here.

He starts losing feeling in his arms. In his legs. All he can feel is the tightening pain in every one of his muscles. Everything is stinging and achy at once. And there's just a sad sense that this was never supposed to be how it ended.

Everything is black again.

He was supposed to have more time. _They_ were supposed to have more time.

He wanted to tell her once, just once, that he thought she was beautiful.

Then darkness took over.

* * *

Scorpius came to so violently that his whole body convulsed. He heard a retching sound, a heaving so loud and wet and crushing that it hurt him to listen to it. It took him several moments to realise it's him making the sickening sound. He's gulping in lungful after lungful of air, desperate to assure himself that he's here, he's back, no more black, no more darkness, no more nothingness.

But there's pain. There's so much pain.

He still doesn't know where he is. His eyes aren't focusing. His ears can't hear anything except the pumping of his blood through his body and the sound of his ragged breathing and a high pitched ringing - a screeching - he can't locate. Is it in his own head? Is it coming from the forest? Why can he hear his blood pumping? He's scrambling on his back. He doesn't know where he is.

Rose.

Where's Rose?

He needs to protect Rose. He needs to stop the Chimaera. _Where is Rose?!_

He must say it out loud, because the first thing he hears that isn't his own body struggling to fulfil it's basic functions is Rose's voice, reassuring but stressed.

"I'm here!" She's saying and he faintly registers a tapping on his chest that isn't his own, "S-s-scorpius I'm here. It's ok! Just b-b-breathe. I'm here!"

His eyes begin to focus and the world starts filling in around him. It's still dark, but there's a lantern sitting on the ground next to him that's giving the surroundings more light. He realise he recognises this place - he's on the stone floor of the boat house. He doesn't know how he got here but right now he doesn't care because he's not being attacked by a Chimaera and he's not drowning - the boat house is a vast improvement. It's cold. It's _so fucking cold_. He's shaking and drenched and holy hell he just blacked out twice. His vision stops swimming and his heart skips an unsteady beat when he realises Rose is sitting over him, just as drenched as he is, eyes wide and face filled with worry. Her hands are on his chest and he can't tell if it's his uneven breathing that's making them shake or if its because it's so cold. Her hair that's usually a cacophony of curls and frizz is slick against her head, drenched beyond recognition, and this isn't right, Rose's hair doesn't look right. He touches it gently to make sure his mind isn't playing tricks on him.

"I'm here," she said again, her voice shaking. Her whole body was shaking, her breath coming out in staccato bursts.

"Are you ok?" Scorpius asked, hand moving from her not-right hair to her face in a gesture so foreign and soft that it would take him by surprise if he wasn't also dealing with the fact that he has no goddam idea what the hell happened between the forest and the lake and here but whatever it was, his body didn't like it.

"Am I ok?" Rose sounded incredulous and terrified and every instinct in his body told him to hold her close, "Scorpius you…you weren't b-b-breathing."

Right.

So he literally just died.

What was the protocol for when you die and then come back to life? Should there be some kind of ceremony? Should he be battling with his very real mortality? Fuck it, he'll deal with all that later. Right now there was only one thing he was concerned with - the woman currently sitting over him looking equal parts terrified and relieved.

"Are you ok?" Scorpius repeated to Rose, looking into her eyes as if to assure himself that she's here and she's breathing. He needed to hear her say it, say that she's ok. His senses weren't functioning properly yet so he couldn't judge it for himself. So he needed to hear her tell him that she's ok, maybe then he can finally stop panicking. Her blue lips bent in a shape that almost looked a bit like a smile.

Oh, look at that, he appears to be cupping her face. When was that a thing that he did?

"Y-y-y-yes," she forced the words out around her shivers, "I'm o-o-ok."

"You're freezing," he states the obvious as he tries to sit up but her protests stop him.

"No, you need t-t-to lie down," Rose said, hands pressing against his chest. He could see her shaking. It crossed his mind that he should be freezing too, he was a minute ago. But he's not anymore. He doesn't know why he isn't. Maybe it's the adrenaline? Whatever, there are more serious things to deal with right now. Namely, making sure Rose doesn't turn into a human icicle.

"We need to dry you off," Scorpius heard himself say, lifting one of his arms (which felt like it was made of goddam stone) to his wand pocket only to remember that it's empty. Fuck, where is his wand? If that bloody Chimaera ate it he's going to be fucking pissed, "Where's you wand, Rose? You need to dry off."

"My wand?" She seemed confused for a moment which struck him as odd. He'd literally just died and come back to life and he's more coherent than she is.

 _Something wrong. Something wrong with mate. Hurt. Fading._

He wasn't sure where the voice came from but he didn't question it.

"You're hurt," he scanned over her critically, looking for signs of injury in the limited light being given off by the lantern, "Rose, where are you hurt?"

"I j-j-just had to get o-o-ou-out of there," her eyes were unfocused and her hands on his chest were losing their insistence, falling limp against him as she swayed back and forth on her knees. He sat up, an action Rose mirrored by swaying backwards.

"Rose!" His voice was panicked, his hands gripping the top of her arms and lowering her back gently to stop her from collapsing. Scorpius sat over her now as he lies her down on the stone floor. He started patting her cloak pockets in a desperate search from her wand, his panicked voice echoing in the empty building around them, "Come on Weasley, where's you wand?"

Rose was fading fast, her hand lifting slowly to the back of her head.

"My head," she muttered, eyes falling closed, "My head h-h-hurts…"

Scorpius had a sudden flash of the Chimaera throwing a branch at her, of her falling backwards and not getting up. The roots. She must have hit her head when she fell. _Fucking hell he needed his wand_. He needed to try summoning it and just hope to hell that a Chimaera didn't come with it.

" _Accio wand!"_ He yelled, holding his hand high. There was a distant whistling - he didn't drop it in the lake apparently. A moment later, Scorpius' wand came flying out of the forest and hurtled towards him at impossible speeds. He caught it easily, pointed it at Rose and quickly cast a drying spell; he did one on himself for good measure also. Rose's shivers stopped almost immediately, her lips returning to their usual pink colour, but her face was still too pale to be healthy.

 _Still wrong. Still hurt. Fading. Need to save her._

The voice caused something to rise in Scorpius' throat as he noticed that Rose still had her eyes closed, hand pressed against the back of her head and eyebrows drawn together in concern. He called her name again and she groaned in response but didn't open her eyes.

"I'm really…tired," she murmured, eyes fluttering and breath still uneven despite being dry, "There was so much…"

"Rose," he moved his hand towards the back of her head; her eyes blinked open but she still looked puzzled, "Let me have a look at your head, Weasley."

"You fought the chi…Chimaera," she lifted one of her hands and ran it across his cheekbone. A shiver ran down his spine and he let out something that could have been a moan if he wasn't so terrified, "How did you fight it?"

"I don't know, Rose," Scorpius said dismissively as he touched the back of her head softly, "I guess I just scared it off."

"You scared it with…with the…" Rose's hand fell from his face and she winced when he touched a spot at the base of her skull.

He had absolutely no time to dwell on what the end of that sentence might have been because he was too focused on what he felt when he touched the base of Rose's skull. Wet. Despite the drying spell, something was wet. He pulled his hand away and saw red.

Blood.

Rose was bleeding.

From her head.

( _A screeching in his mind. A terror in his bones. No words, just fear. Must save her_ )

He needed to get to Pomfrey _right fucking now_.

"Can you stand?" He asked, linking his arm around her and moving steadily to his feet. Her legs fumbled beneath her but she eventually stood, swaying and leaning on him heavily. That was a good sign; being able to get vertical was a good sign he reassured himself. "Ok, we're going to start walking, ok Rose? One foot in front of the other - let's go."

They made their way - stumbling and unsteady - out of the boat house and up the stairs towards the main entry. Merlin almighty why were there so many stairs? Thousands of years worth of magic and no one had figured out a short-cut? He considered summoning his broom, but Rose was barely managing to stay on her feet, he didn't like his chances of getting her to stay airborne. Walking would have to do.

They were about half way up when Rose's feet slowed to a shuffle, her head rolling to rest against his cheek.

"I'm really…really tired," she breathed, feet dragging and tripping over the cracks in the old stone steps.

"Come on, Weasley," he tightened his grip and hoisted her up to get a better support, "We're more than half way."

"My head hurts," she complained again in a whisper, "I need…to sleep."

"No sleeping!" He said tightly, unsuccessfully trying to speed up their steps, "Not until we get you looked at by Pomfrey."

Rose let out a weak groan in response and lost control of her feet, slipping from his grasp and almost collapsing onto the ground. He managed to catch her, holding her close until she got her feet under her again. Scorpius looked up at the several staircases they still had to conquer before even making it to the entrance. He let out a frustrated growl under his breath, inconceivably angry at the world for putting him in this position. He couldn't wait for someone else to stumble upon them to help and he couldn't leave her here alone; Rose was in a bad way and needed help right now. He couldn't drag her the whole way.

But he could carry her.

"Hold on to me Weasley," he muttered as he threw her arm around his shoulders, bending to scoop her legs up in his other arm, cradling her against him, "We survived a Chimaera - I'm not going to let you die from a fucking root."

She rested her head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder, her free hand planted against his chest lightly, her breath coming out faintly against his skin. He kept her firmly pressed against him as he started running up the stairs two at a time. Scorpius absently thought that if things weren't quite so serious this would be rather romantic.

"Don't…wanna…die…" she breathed into his ear.

He choked on something in his throat, clutching her closer still to his body. Had she always been this tiny? She was always so imposing in his mind - facing off against him, face set in a hard line, always ready for a fight. But now, going limp in his arms and barely conscious, she seemed so very small. So very vulnerable. He didn't like it at all.

"You're not going to. I won't let you," he said it with such conviction he even managed to convince himself for a moment.

Scorpius continued running towards the castle, the weight of her evaporating in his arms the more he ran. He kept his eyes firmly focused on the next step in front of him, the steady pounding of his feet hitting the stone becoming a stabling beat in his mind. Rose wasn't making any sound but he could still feel her breath against his neck. He focused on that too - reassured himself that she was still alive. He just had to get her to Pomfrey and everything would be fine.

From somewhere above him, a young male voice rang out into the night.

"They're here! Headmaster! They're ok!"

Scorpius looked up and saw Leon Warthoff running towards him at alarming speeds, Neville Longbottom (dressed in his extremely fashionable striped pyjamas with maroon and yellow striped dressing gown - so much for an unbiased headmaster. He was still Gryffindor to the soul) in tow behind him, the other three detention-dwellers bringing up the rear. Scorpius could say, without a doubt, that he had never been happier to see students in his life.

"She's bleeding!" he roared, barely recognising his own voice. He somehow managed to be more stressed now then when he was facing down the bloody Chimaera, "She needs to get to Pomfrey!"

Scorpius looked at where Neville was plodding down the stairs. He was still too far away. _There wasn't enough time for this_.

Leon, bless the kid's heart, met him on the stairs and started jogging beside him the best he could. Scorpius could ignore the aching in his bones, the pain still lingering in his extremities from that little bit of his life than was technically his death that he already decided he was not going to think about - he could ignore all of that if it meant getting Rose to safety.

"It's ok, Professor," Leon said between pants, his words directed at Rose, "Professor Malfoy is gunna get you back safely."

Yes. Yes he was.

Scorpius made a mental note to never give Leon detention again. He might even be downright _kind_ to him from now on.

Scorpius saw Longbottom's patronus shoot off into the hospital in whispery strands, hopeful that it would wake Madam Pomfrey. Neville stopped running, the other three children crowding around him as Scorpius approached, still taking the steps two at a time. Keely had her head buried in Alastair's chest and was apparently weeping (right, like _her_ night was bad), Alastair was patting her shoulder and seemed totally ill-equipped to deal with a weeping girl, and Daisy Brookworth may actually be taking goddam notes. Was it wrong to hate a child?

"Children - back to your dormitories!" Neville ordered, at a point which Scorpius thought far too late. None of them budged. Typical. Longbottom reached towards Rose as they drew closer, "Let's have a look at her."

"No time!" Scorpius huffed, barrelling past him in the direction of the main entrance.

"Malfoy!" Neville called as he hurried after him, noticeably out of breath, "You can't carry her the whole way to the Hospital Wing!"

"WATCH ME!" He barked over his shoulder, his legs carrying him faithfully without fault. He heard Neville let out what may have been a curse under his breath before addressing the students once more, catching Leon by the shoulder as he raced to follow Scorpius.

"All of you - dormitories. Now."

"Will she be alright?" Leon asked with genuine worry, panting heavily.

"What's wrong with the Professor?" Keely wailed before throwing herself into her beloved's armpit once more.

"Is she gunna die?!" Daisy queried with far less concern than the question required.

" _Beds. Now."_

Whether or not the students followed Longbottom's orders, Scorpius didn't know; he was far too busy focusing on the ever-nearing school entry, Rose moaning and muttering in his ear incoherently.

"What was that Rose?" He asked, trying to engage her in conversation to keep her conscious even though his lungs felt a bit like they were on fire (although comparative to drowning, it really wasn't that bad.)

"Are the children…" she paused, her lips resting against his collar bone for a moment before she whispered, "Are they safe?"

"Yes Rose," he answered, thankful to finally hit the top of the stairs and be heading towards the entryway, "The students are fine."

Her lips bent into that shape that may have been a smile, but may have just been her taking another breath. "Good."

Marching into the main entrance, Scorpius became faintly away of Neville Longbottom racing to catch up to him. The older man let out another curse, appearing at his side.

"Dumbledore's beard, did it get you?!" Neville exclaimed, looking at Scorpius' back in horror. He didn't know how to tell his boss that he honestly didn't remember.

"Um, I don't think so," he replied, eyes focused squarely ahead. Just a few more corridors then they'd be at the Hospital Wing. Just a little further. His answer did not appease his boss.

"Scorpius, slow down a moment," Longbottom reached out a hand towards his back, careful not to touch it, wand still in his hand, "I don't think you're alright."

Well, too bad; his body would just have to wait.

"Rose is barely conscious," he puffed out, legs beginning to feel like jelly as he raced down the corridors, "I can wait."

"But your back-"

"My back is fine!" He snapped, eyes still focused ahead. Neville's voice was stern and full of concern when he replied.

"Then what on earth happened to your robes?"

Scorpius turned his head to the side and caught a glimpse of them in one of the large windows as they passed. What he saw horrified him a little.

His robes were absolutely shredded. It was a damn miracle they were hanging on at all. The front appeared untouched, but now that he was paying more attention to it, they were sitting very strangely, and had shifted from their usual position. Probably because the back was completely in tatters, hanging in streams down his back, edges fraying and torn.

What the hell had happened to him when he blacked out?

Despite his best efforts to not think about it for fear of realising he, himself, was close to death, Scorpius focused his attention on his partially exposed back and felt…nothing. Just the brush of his fragmented clothing, but no tell-tale sign of injury like stinging or burning or cold wet blood. The only slight discomfort he felt was probably because he was running down the goddam hallways carrying another human, little as she was. He decided to take the very logical, very healthy, very grown-up approach to the situation and just ignore it. There were more pressing matters at hand. He distracted himself further by talking to Rose.

"You don't happen to have a portkey to the Hospital Wing hidden around here anywhere do you Rose?" Scorpius muttered as he jogged through the corridors, somehow still faster than Neville despite his additional burden, "Because that would be fucking brilliant right now."

"Only had one…" she murmured into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin and strike him down that was mighty distracting, "Already…used it…"

Already used it? Ah, the lake. The lake he himself had been dropped into earlier in the week; he'd bet that's how they'd gotten out of the forest, one of her sneaky little portkeys. He never thought he'd be happy to have Rose randomly drop him into a lake. She'd probably been planning to plant it on him if he'd been a shit during detention.

Which meant she'd decided not to use it when he told her to leave. Instead, at some point in the confrontation he couldn't remember, Rose had not only chosen to get herself out of the forest, but to take Scorpius with her. And when it dropped them in the lake, when the world faded to black around him, Rose was the one who'd pulled him out.

Holy fuck.

Rose Weasley very likely saved his life. Twice.

Oh Merlin's right testicle he didn't know whether to vomit or cry. He owed his life to Rose Weasley. The woman that was, almost certainly, his soulmate. The person he had been unabashedly awful to for most of their combined existences. And she'd chosen to not just save herself - she'd risked her own wellbeing to make sure he was safe. Not because she was his soulmate, not because she had some weird bird thing in her head making her do thing; Rose just saved him because it was the right thing to do.

Screw vomiting _or_ crying, he was probably going to do both right here in the hallway.

Thankfully, he was distracted by having a very public and grotesque breakdown when Rose mumbled into his neck, "Had to use it to get away from…away from the fire…"

"The fire?" He questioned, taking a right turn very quickly and almost tumbling over, "What fire?"

"Your fire," she whispered, her brows pulled together in confusion, eyes still closed, "It was…was everywhere. Couldn't see the Chimaera…or the…the other thing."

His stomach dropped, his heart stopped beating. He kept his voice low to avoid being overheard by Neville (who was torn between wanting to help Scorpius and knowing very well that it was probably best to just let him to it himself) following a few paces behind.

"What other thing, Rose?" Scorpius asked in a whisper.

"Don't know," she sounded scared. He held her closer, "There was this sound…and…and you were there…"

From somewhere near the base of his skull came a whisper _:_

 _We were there. We saved her. Had to save mate._

As Rose recounted the events, no matter how crazy they sounded, something in him knew them to be true. There was that voice in his head that didn't only agree, but was proud of what she was saying. He couldn't remember, but he'd been there; and somewhere in his mind, the memories were buried, waiting to be uncovered. The thought of being out of control, even if it was to protect Rose, terrified him.

"I had to help you," Rose's voice grew a touch panicked, he murmured soothing words as she spoke, "But all I could think of was flames, and…and fire, and…and wings…"

Wings? His robes. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck._

"I…I had a portkey…to the lake…"

Just like he suspected.

"…and then we were falling and I couldn't see you under the water and I thought you were gone," the hand on his chest clutched at the front of his robes as her voice became erratic and her breathing sped up. This wasn't good; Rose couldn't start panicking now. They were almost at the Hospital Wing, she could go into shock once they got there but absolutely not a moment beforehand, "…you saved me and I thought…I thought I drowned you and-"

"Rose, it's ok. I'm ok. You…" his voice broke as the enormity of the statement dawned on him again as they reached the doors to the Hospital Wing, "You saved me."

Her hand was still clenching his shirt, "But you…the fire…"

Neville raced in to the darkened room to find Pomfrey who apparently was not yet awake. Scorpius stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, legs shaking, arms numb, and heart so full of hope and fear it felt it might burst. He looked down at Rose in his arms and let out his own stuttered breath.

"I'm fine Rose," he tells her honestly, feeling his eyes heat, "You got us out. We're ok."

And for a few very brief (blindingly wonderful) moments, Rose Weasley opened her eyes and smiled up at him, eyes sparkling and clear for a moment. She unclenched his shirt, lifting her hand to caress his face softly to convince herself he was really there before placing her hand over his heart, it's erratic beating mimicking her's. Her eyes slid to her hand on his chest, then back to his face and he knew - _he just knew_ \- that she felt it too.

 _We match._

With her hand on his chest, her eyes looking into his, something in him that had been alert and heightened all evening finally quietened. Everything was peaceful now. Everything was ok.

 _We made it. She'll be alright. We've saved her._

Rose looked puzzled as her gaze shifted from his eyes to slightly higher.

"Scorpius, your hair…"

Aaaaaand calmness gone.

"What's wrong with my hair?!" He asked with more fear than he would ever own up to. Oh Merlin had his hair been burnt off? _Was he bald?!._

"It's…" she reached a hand towards it, fascinated, "It's glowing."

Fuck.

* * *

Pomfrey had Rose covered in charms and drinking potions within two minutes of their arrival. The older Mediwitch had wanted Scorpius to stay and to be thoroughly checked over, but he informed her he would have to be literally missing at least three limbs to allow that to happen. Pomfrey had tried appealing to Longbottom for support but the older man hadn't been anymore successful in his attempts to persuade him to seek treatment. Scorpius had insisted instead that he was going to sit by Rose's bedside all night until she recovered consciousness properly. The sly look Madam Pomfrey gave him in response did not bode well with him as she told him he was _more than welcome_ to stay.

"But the rules are, _Mr._ Malfoy, that if you're in my med-bay, you're my patient," she raised an eyebrow and started summoning bandages and salves, "Which means you get your own bed and a proper examination."

No way in hell. Not when his hair was apparently shiny. Now that the room was properly illuminated it wasn't as obvious with neither Pomfrey or Longbottom making a comment on it. That said, they also had an unconscious Weasley to deal with, so there was every chance that they were just ignoring him and focusing on the more important issues at hand. But there was still the fact that Rose had been babbling about wings and fire.

Not. Fucking. Good.

He didn't want to ingest anything that might lead to another blackout which would, he was hypothesising, result in his veela coming forward. As much as he wanted to stay as close to Rose as physically possible and the thought of leaving her alone here made him feel physically sick, he couldn't be here under intense scrutiny and surveillance. He needed to get back to his room, take a Calming Draught or eight, maybe scream into a pillow for a few hours; anything to try to figure out what, precisely, had happened tonight.

Not to mention he needed to mend his robes, may their pristine silk lining rest in peace.

Scorpius excused himself from the Hospital Wing, attempting to make a quick escape rather than face another round of questioning from Neville or Pomfrey. With every step away from Rose he took, he felt his agitation rising. He kept seeing her blue lips trembling, her eyes unfocused and fatigued, the way her body was so tiny when bundled up in his arms.

The feeling of her breath against his skin, how it stuttered and faded and Scorpius was left to wonder if she'd ever wake up.

There's a haze coming over his vision as the thoughts of her race through his mind, the distress he was so capable of burying in the moment of need now coming to the forefront. Rose Weasley saved his life tonight and almost lost hers as a direct result.

Merlin he thinks he's going to vomit.

He braced himself on the wall, hanging his head low, and began to dry heave rather violently. Thankfully, nothing came out. It'd be pretty hard to convince Longbottom and Pomfrey he didn't need medical attention if he went and vomited in the hallway right outside the hospital bay.

"Scorpius!"

Speak of the devil.

"We need to discuss what happened," Neville Longbottom walked into the corridor, and Scorpius quickly flicked his wand at the sconce on the wall, illuminated the corridor with candle light. Vomiting plus shiny hair was _sure_ to get him admitted.

"Can it wait?" Scorpius' tone was hard and biting and he felt himself scowling at the man, remembering that without his punishment neither he nor Rose would have been out there tonight, "I've got some other things to deal with. Hear there's a troll in the kitchens - might go fight that off barehanded."

Longbottom moved towards him, hand outstretched and face full of concern.

"Malfoy I'm think you nee-"

Scorpius cut him off, his fear of losing Rose now morphing into radiating, burning anger.

"For the record, Neville," his words were cutting and echoed throughout the empty hallway, "Knowing there's a Chimaera roaming free in the forest would have been information I'd like to be told before doing detention duty!"

"I'm sorry," Neville sounded very apologetic, so much so that he didn't pull Scorpius up on his very inappropriate tone, "It was supposed to be in containment."

"WELL IT FUCKING WASN'T!"

Neville put his hands up in a sign of surrender, "I know, and I can't tell you how sorry I am about that-"

"Sorry? _Sorry?!"_ That was precisely the wrong thing to say to him right now. He pushed away from the wall and turned to face the man head-on, _"_ Rose is lying in there unconscious and you're _sorry_?! SHE COULD HAVE DIED!"

"I know!" Neville cried and it was only now that Scorpius saw the older man was close to tears. A silence rang out through the long dark corridor before he murmured again, "I know she could have."

Longbottom's voice was defeated as he slumped against the wall, his head in his hands. Great, now Scorpius felt like a bad guy. Just peachy.

"I never would have forgiven myself if-" Neville's words broke off in a shudder before he cleared his throat. He looked up at Scorpius, the same horrors he sometimes saw haunting his father's features shining back at him, "She's like family to me."

Scorpius felt his metaphorical armour dissipate and the tension leave his shoulders. This wasn't the fight he wanted. He wanted to yell at Rose, tell her she was stupid for not getting out of the forest when he'd told her too. He wanted to yell at whoever thought up the grand idea of having a Chimaera in the Triwizard Tournament (he'd be willing to bet a small fortune it was Durmstrang). He wanted to screamed at whoever it was in his family that went and got themselves cursed by a veela to have this weird bird thing flying around in his brain all week. He could possibly even go a few extra rounds with the Chimaera, maybe even fist-fight a dragon. But fighting Neville Longbottom, war survivor who'd been intimately acquainted with death and bereavement far longer than anyone ever should, was not the adversary he wanted.

"I know," Scorpius said finally, running a hand through his hair in a nervous tic, then immediately stopped in case it drew attention to his little condition. He picked at what was left of his sleeve, more than a little ashamed of his actions, "And I know you didn't mean any of this to happen, it's just…"

She could have died.

He could have died.

The students could have died.

Tonight there could have been multiple fatalities, and if there was one thing Scorpius didn't need to be burdened with on top of everything else, it was Survivor's Guilt. What if he hadn't been able to carry her up to the Hospital Wing? What if he hadn't gone looking for what was making his skin crawl in the forest? What if he'd sent the students off to scout the area? So many things could have gone very, very wrong tonight. Tonight he got a lot closer to holding a dead Rose Weasley in his arms than he ever wanted to. He mentally made the resolution that nothing like this would ever happen again.

 _We'll protect her. Keep her safe. No harm shall come to her. Not while we're around._

"It's been a long night," Scorpius eventually said, his voice tired and his body weak, "I've got an early class tomorrow and-"

"For Merlin's sake, Scorpius, I don't expect you to teach tomorrow!" Neville said incredulously, "You fought a Chimaera tonight and saved several people's lives. Take the day off!"

Scorpius smiled a little at that. But only a very little.

"I appreciate the offer, sir," the thought of sitting in his room doing nothing but reliving the experiences of this evening did not hold much appeal, "I'll think about it."

Neville assessed him silently, very clearly unhappy that Scorpius was refusing to stay in the Hospital Wing or at least let Pomfrey look at him. He went to speak several times, but continued to falter, so Scorpius turned and started making a shaky trek back to his nice little room in the dungeons where there wasn't any Chimaeras or dying women.

"Scorpius!" Neville called, forcing him to turn around (more than a little cautiously), "Thank you. For saving…well, for saving everyone. Yourself included."

He was not going to cry in front of his boss. _He was not going to cry in front of his boss._

"Anytime, Headmaster."

"Don't make a habit of it though," Neville smiled faintly, eyes still shiny, "My heart's not what it used to be."

What a coincidence, Scorpius didn't think his was either.

He gave the older man a smile, "Don't worry - I don't intend to."

* * *

 _There you go folks - no cliffhanger this time :)_

 _So this chapter has less 'fun' than the last ones, but don't worry, we'll pick back up with the humor very shortly. I have a feeling y'all are going to enjoy the next chapter quite a bit. Fun fact: It was supposed to be the second part of this chapter but then, in true Grae fashion, it started getting bigger than Ben Hur, so to avoid having one random 12,000 word chapter I decided to split it. But more on that when the next instalment gets here :)_

 _Kindly reminder than reviews make me happy_

 _My love to you all, I hope you're having a lovely week._


	8. Chapter 8

_Ok folks, so here's the downside to this chapter: no scorose interaction yet. The upside: we get a nice dose of Draco being a #supportivedad and we also get to meet a new character_

 _Just a heads up that the chapter updates are very likely to slow down considerably in the near future - I'm returning to work which means, besides having less available time to write, I will also be hella tired and am likely to spend a lot of my 'free time' sleeping._

 _I'd also just like to say that the love this fic has been getting has been absolutely phenomenal and beyond what I could have ever dreamed. Some of your reviews very nearly bring me to tears they're so lovely. I was actually planning on walking away from writing fanfics forever after_ This is Acting _because I felt that story was a really nice way to end things. Suffice to say, I'm so very glad I decided to write this bad boy._

 _Love you all. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Proud as a Peacock**

By the time he'd got back to his quarters, the enormity of the evening had had time to marinate and his mind was racing a million miles a minute. Scorpius rushed to his bedroom, pulled off his beyond-redemption robes and pulled on a pair of pyjama pants, before running to his bathroom to stare at himself in the mirror. He was really glowing. His hair gave off a bright silvery halo and was waving gently around his head as if caught in an invisible wind or water (water. dark. cold. suffocating). His skin was shiny and looked to be pulsing gently. It was as if the entire room was lit by a full moon _and seriously could this night get any fucking worse?!_

He turned and tried to get a look of his back in the mirror, looking for any obvious sign that he'd very likely grown wings within the last hour. He was looking for feathers or extra appendages, possibly scratches from the beast he didn't recall fighting.

The good news - he hadn't sprouted wings.

The bad news - he now had fucking tattoos.

Nestled under his skin, catching the light as he shifted, was the feint outline of feathered wings. They extended from his shoulder blades and descended down the entire length of his spine and disappeared under his pants. It didn't seem to be ink, and in all honesty, if he wasn't specifically looking for them he may not even notice them at all. But the lines glowed more than the rest of him, glistening silver wisps shifting in the light as he twisted. How the hell had none of his ancestors thought to make a note of the fact that having your veela awakened meant you suddenly got fucking feathers imprinted into your skin from neck to calf? Scorpius knew he didn't exactly get around with his shirt off a lot, and especially not in the company of others, but it was still the principle of the matter. It was another bodily change that he had absolutely no say in and it made him furious.

Scorpius did what had become his knee-jerk reaction during a time of distress - he flooed his father.

"You need to come here," he said to the bedraggled and unimpressed face of Draco Malfoy, apparently unhappy with being woken up at 1:00am by his spawn having a crisis, "Now."

"What's going on?" the man muttered sleepily. It would appear he was unfamiliar with the concept of 'now'.

Scorpius forced his words past gritted teeth, "I've gone _shiny_."

"Oh." Draco said, eyes wide and suddenly very much awake, "Fuck."

"Quite."

"I'm on my way - step back."

Scorpius paced around his living room for what felt like a great deal of time, but was probably only a matter of moments, until his father arrived. He'd deliberately not lit his quarters to show off the immensity of the situation developing, standing in only his pyjama pants at the centre of the room. Which, as it turned out, was still enough exposed skin and hair to light the whole place up in a weird faint silver glow like he was a goddam night light.

Draco Malfoy appeared in a flurry of green flames, dressed stylishly in black silk pyjamas and matching dressing gown. Scorpius watched his father's face closely to gauge his reaction; he was not disappointed. Draco's eyes went straight to his hair, then ran across his exposed skin, widening a fraction at the site before him. His mouth dropped open to say something before he clearly thought better of whatever his immediate thoughts were, and reassumed his usual air of indifferent boredom.

After several moments of the two of them staring at each other in silence, Draco finally spoke.

"It's not _that_ obvious."

A greater lie had never been told.

"Not that obvious _?!_ " Scorpius exclaimed indignantly while he gestured to his person, _"I'm fucking glowing_."

His father shrugged and smirked at him, "It's quite pretty, isn't it?"

" _COULD YOU FUCKING NOT."_

"Really, it's…" Draco shrugged, "It's barely noticeable."

"Barely noticeable?!" Scorpius said, outraged, "Well what do you think of _this_?!"

He spun to show his father the silvery tattoo-like imprints covering his back, shifting slightly to show how they caught and reflected the light. "Still think it's not _that_ obvious?"

Draco stepped out of the floo and dusted non-existent lingering powder off his shoulders before yawning in what Scorpius couldn't tell was fatigue or feigned boredom, "Really, who's likely to see them?"

" _That absolutely isn't the point!_ " Scorpius yelled, feeling the terror from the evening bubbling up into his consciousness again and effecting his ability to be rational.

"Oh calm down, Scorpius," his father moved past him towards the kitchen, flicking on a lamp so there was a bit more light in the room other than Scorpius' skin-glow, "You're overreacting again. Sit down, I'll make tea."

"I don't want tea and I will not be calm!"

He did sit down, but he did it angrily on principle.

"You may not want tea but you clearly need it," the sound of his father pottering in the kitchen seemed so foreign, so _normal_ after the rest of the evening's events, "You're acting incredibly uncivilised."

Scorpius scoffed at the gall of his father, "Well excuse me for being uncivilised when I start glowing _like a fucking Christmas tree!"_

"You don't look like a Christmas tree," Draco poked his head around through the doorway to appraise him, "You're much more like a unicorn."

Scorpius' face was flat. He could really punch his father sometimes. "Oh thanks very much."

"You're welcome!" Draco called, disappearing back into the kitchen with a smile.

"I was being sarcastic!" Scorpius snapped, his - now incredibly sore - legs giggling maniacally with pent up anxiety.

"Well it's very difficult to tell when you're screaming," Draco reappeared carrying a teapot, two cups levitating behind him. He set the table as if it was just another regular catch up and not at all borne out of unusual circumstances, "You really should put on a shirt."

"I wanted to make sure you fully appreciated the severity of the situation," Scorpius muttered in reply, feeling embarrassingly self-conscious. He summoned his dressing gown and pulled the garment around him haphazardly.

"You glow - I get it," before he could be outraged at his father's drastic over-simplification of the situation, Draco continued, "Any idea what's set it off?"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell his father the complete truth about everything that happened tonight. Namely because he wasn't entirely sure what exactly has occurred tonight, his memories not suddenly materialising inside his head on the rather short walk from the Hospital Wing to his quarters.

For a moment his mind flashed to Rose lying in a hospital bed and he felt a tugging in his stomach that made him want to go back to her, to stay by her side. But he can't - he simply can't risk someone figuring out what's going on with his body. Especially not before he himself has figured it out. He'll see her tomorrow. Maybe by then Pomfrey won't be eyeing him like a particularly hungry vulture as soon as he steps foot in the wing.

Scorpius also wasn't too proud to say that the way his father asked the question - with an all-knowing edge to his tone like he himself had lived through this experience - made him want to be difficult just to spite him. It was all well and good for Draco to talk about how things will feel and what he should do during the transition, but it was a lot fucking different when you were living the experience rather than just reading about it happening to others. So Scorpius decided to be deliberately obtuse, just for a moment.

"Why do you assume something must have set it off?" he tried to hide from the answer behind his teacup. He was considerably unsuccessful if the eyebrow raise he got from his father in response was anything to go by.

"Because I have actually read all those books you borrowed, and I know that glowing doesn't just happen," Draco's tone was haughty and Scorpius made a mental note to forgive Rose for punching him whenever he took that tone with her because _Merlin Almighty_ it was annoying, "It's often triggered."

"Well aren't you just a wealth of knowledge," Scorpius muttered childishly. His father was having, precisely, none of his shit.

"Saying something sarcastically doesn't make it untrue," Draco put down his teacup and reclined in his chair like he owned the whole damn castle, "So - what was the trigger?"

Scorpius chewed the inside of his cheek as he tried to figure out a way to phrase the evening's events. On the one hand, he wanted to tell his father everything, get his opinion on what he needed to do next, ask if he had any idea how to deal with the threat of blackouts and possibly 'veela-ing out'. On the other hand, Scorpius was very aware that his father would hear the story and tell him Rose Weasley was clearly destined to be his mate, he should stop thinking about a cure, and get to wooing her as soon as possible.

And Scorpius just couldn't bear the thought of telling his father that he wholeheartedly agreed with him.

"There was an incident during detention," Scorpius answered diplomatically. His father let out a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes before levelling him with a hard look.

"It's one in the morning Scorpius - now isn't the time to be cryptic."

"Well i-"

Scorpius' floo roared to life and he spun wildly to face it. His father was considerably less concerned with the disruption and simply continued sipping his tea. Apparently, the man knew his wife very well and had anticipated the very familiar erratic voice that rang out from the coals.

" _Draco?! What's going on? Scorpius?! Someone better speak to me right now or I am coming over to find out for myself!"_

Scorpius spun to face his father, betrayal in his eyes, before whispering incredulously, "You told _mother_?"

"What did you expect?" His father hissed back across the table at him, "For me to just kiss her good-bye and say 'Oops. Forgot I've got an urgent business meeting at 1:00am. Pjs for a dress code. Be back soon'? Of course I told her you needed to speak to me."

"And you didn't think she'd find that suspicious?" It occurred to him briefly that they were acting a lot like children being caught in the restricted section of the library. Did that stop them? Absolutely not.

"It _is_ suspicious," his father whispered back.

"What are we going to tell her?!" Scorpius looked over at the floo where his mother was now counting down from three in a threatening tone. His father reclined and sipped his tea with all the comforts of a man who had absolutely no concerns in the world. Scorpius was incredibly jealous.

" _We_?" Draco scoffed with a smile, "No, no, this is your mess - you can deal with your mother."

" _My_ mess?!" Scorpius hissed incredulously, "You're the one who woke her up when you left!"

"You're the one who called me over here in the first place!"

"Um, hello, _I'm glowing."_

"Yes, and I'm sure your mother will be overjoyed when she sees it for herself," Draco nodded to the floor, his mother's voice announcing ' _One! That's it I'm coming over there!"_

Scorpius dived across the room, his head over the coals to see his mother looking back at him. She was not impressed.

"Hiya Mum," he greeted gingerly, hoping his floaty hair didn't come across via floo, "Everything's fine here. Nothing to worry about. Go back to bed."

"What's going on?" She demanded, her lip quivering. Seems she'd worked herself into a bit of a panic. How very typical for Astoria Malfoy.

"N-nothing," Scorpius glanced over his shoulder at where his father was casually walking into the kitchen. Escaping. The coward, "Just ah- just needed father's advice on something. Nothing for you to be concerned about."

His mother narrowed her eyes at him before asking directly, "Does it involve your penis?"

It was official. This was the worst night of his life.

Scorpius choked on his own tongue.

"WHAT?! _NO_! Why-why would you think that?!"

His father was sniggering behind him. So much for fatherly love.

Astoria turned up her nose, a look of resignation and victory on her face. "If it's not about penises I deserve to be involved - I'm coming over."

"No mum-"

" _I'm coming over._ "

Scorpius looked back at his father for back up only to find Draco sitting at the table casually pouring tea into the third teacup he'd recently acquired from the kitchen. Traitor.

Astoria's face vanished from the coals in front of him, leaving Scorpius with no option except to step back and await his mother's arrival. He foolishly looked around the room for something that would somehow hide his current predicament, and very unsurprisingly came up short.

The floo roared to life to reveal Astoria Malfoy emerging from green flames, hair wrapped in an intricate light pink silk head scarf that matched her dressing gown and pyjamas, wand in hand and face alight with fury and fear.

"Someone had better expla-ah!"

She froze mid-sentence, eyes on Scorpius where he stood glowing in the middle of the lounge room. He didn't say anything, mirroring his mother's frozen display. His father broke the tension.

"Good Morning, darling," Draco called from the table, stirring the cube of sugar he'd dropped into her tea, "Good news - our son's veela has fully awoken. Isn't that marvellous? Tea?"

A second later, Astoria Malfoy burst into tears.

She wailed loudly as she ran forward and threw her arms around Scorpius. That was the thing about his mother - she showed her affection through physical contact. She was 'a hugger', and the fact that she'd somehow decided to marry Draco Malfoy, who enjoyed physical intimacy just about as much as he enjoyed having his testicles removed with a spoon, was incredibly puzzling to Scorpius and the entire wizarding world. Where Draco was cold, Astoria was warm. Where Draco was hard, Astoria was soft. She met people with an embrace and a kiss on the cheek, she placed her hand on her husband's leg whenever they were sat next to each other, she always stood a fraction too close when dancing; Astoria just liked to be close to people, particularly her husband. Scorpius often thought that maybe that was why his father had liked her so much; that he had been so starved of human contact and intimacy - even in a platonic sense - that when Astoria Greengrass barrelled into his life and wrapped him in her arms, he'd just kind of short-circuited and never been able to let her go. His parents didn't make much sense to outsiders, but Scorpius had never met a better match. Astoria encouraged Draco to be more open, and he provided some much-needed impulse control to his exuberant wife.

Suddenly his father's 'opposites attract' mentality when it came to Scorpius and Rose made a little more sense.

"I'm not dying, mother," Scorpius muttered, rubbing his mother's back reassuringly.

"I know!" She cried, pulling back to look him in the eye with a watery smile, "I'm just so glad you decided to stop taking your suppressant and have embraced yourself just as you are! I told your father - I told him - I just want you to love yourself as much as we love you and allow yourself to be true to you! It's just so marvelous! It's all I've ever wanted!"

"Um, mum I-"

"You're just so beautiful!" She cried, stepping back to look at him for a moment before letting out a happy squeal and wrapping him up in her arms once more.

"And people think _I'm_ the shallow one," his father muttered into his teacup behind them. Astoria pulled back again and started to babble to herself in her excitement, still crying from happiness.

"Look at your hair!" She gushed as she ran her fingers through it excitedly, "Draco, isn't his hair beautiful?"

"Yes dear, very beautiful."

"And his skin!" Astoria ran her hands rampantly over his face like she was discovering skin for the first time and was utterly perplexed by its existence, "Draco, isn't his skin lovely?"

"Yes dear, our boy has lovely skin."

Scorpius had never heard his father refer to him as 'our boy' before. It made something in his chest skip a beat. That was the effect his mother had on his father, Scorpius supposed, she gave him something to be proud of, allowed him to be more open than he was with anyone else in his life.

Scorpius momentarily forgot all of his various problems, and simply thought that he desperately wanted someone like that - someone to make him proud to be himself. Someone he could be his complete self with without a hint of shame.

That same voice at the back of his skull piped up with an answer.

 _Rose_

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother spinning him quickly and patting his shoulder blades with far more aggression than was strictly called for.

"What about you wings?" She asked, sounding concerned and giving him no time to actually respond to her questions, "Aren't you supposed to have wings? Draco, isn't he supposed to have wings?"

"Ah-" Scorpius faltered, unsure if he wanted to admit to his shiny new tattoos and have his mother want to inspect his back. Thankfully his father interrupted.

"Only very rarely," Draco waved his hand dismissively, "They're a defensive measure, not a standard appendage."

"Oh well let's hope you're never in a position that you have to use them," Astoria spun Scorpius around again and looked at him with pride, "I'm just _so_ happy for you!"

"Um, mother, I, ah, I didn't exactly _choose_ to stop taking the suppressant," Scorpius said meekly. He watched his mother's elation drop completely off her face. Great, now he felt like the world's worst son.

"You didn't?" Her voice was tiny and Scorpius kind of wanted to punch himself in the face for making his mother sad.

"No, I just ran out of ingredients," he gestured to himself, "This is just going to be temporary."

He watched as his mother's eyes hardened and she got a determined look on her face. It was the same look she'd worn when Aunt Daphne had told her that they couldn't come over for Christmas one year because they simply had 'too many other competing engagements'. His mother had taken it as a personal challenge to ensure her sister attended Christmas dinner.

And she had succeeded. Because Astoria Malfoy could move goddam mountains if she wanted too.

"Hmmm," she hummed speculatively before her face lit back up, "Well we'll see how you're feeling about it a bit later when you've gotten used to it."

Which, if Scorpius was translating correctly, roughly meant; _try it boy, I dare you._

Great. Now he would have to battle both his parents. Just marvelous.

"The tea's going to get cold," Draco interrupted, "Both of you come and sit so we can all discuss this."

Scorpius willingly took the opportunity to move away from his mother's prying hands (there was only so much cheek-pinching a grown man could take), practically diving for his chair and tea cup. He really wished his mother wasn't here - this was a conversation he'd much rather have with just his father. It was evident his father had not yet informed his mother of the whole 'I know who my soul mate is' business, and seeing as Rose being in mortal peril was a key part of the evenings' events, he didn't exactly know how to continue without bringing it up. And as he had complained to his father previously - his mother knowing would ruin _everything_. She'd probably start sending Rose pictures of Scorpius as a baby, 'randomly drop by' with afternoon tea three times a week, maybe even suggest appropriate floral arrangements for a July wedding. His mother was a hopeless romantic with the best intentions, but had some serious issues with impulse control.

His father, it would appear, was intent on causing that to happen as soon as possible. Scorpius pondered whether it was because of his little bout of being deliberately vague with his answers earlier. He really wanted to punch past-Scorpius in the stomach for not taking the opportunity to properly speak to his father one-on-one when they had the chance.

"So," Draco said with a knowing smile gleaming in the corner of his lips, "What's triggered the glowing?"

Yeah, there was no way he was bringing Rose into the story with his mother here. He also wasn't particularly thrilled to have to recount that he'd had a surprise a brush with a Chimaera during detention. If he knew Astoria Malfoy, and he was fairly sure he did, she was very likely to send Neville a howler expressing her displeasure, or worst still, march into his room right now and give him a piece of her mind (she wouldn't hex him though - _ladies don't hex people they're displeased with, Scorpius_ she'd often told him. Rose Weasley didn't get that memo). If there was one thing this evening definitely didn't need, it was his mother yelling at his boss while they were both dressed in their pyjamas. He pictured the scene unfolding; his mother screaming while dressed in her silks, Neville looking stunned and frightened in his Gryffindor dressing gown, and Draco doing sweet fuck all to diffuse the tension or calm down his wife, just sipping a cup of tea in the corner like he was now. Merlin that would be mortifying; it needed to be avoided at all costs.

Plus he was still feeling rather wretched about yelling at poor old Neville himself. He didn't need his mother adding to the man's guilt.

Scorpius tried to phrase his response in a way that would be telling enough without sending his mother into a spin.

"Well, like I said before mother got here, there was an incident during detention," he tried his hand at telepathically communicating with his father but if the blank look he got in response was anything to go by, he'd guessed he wasn't successful.

That said, Astoria didn't actually seem to be paying attention to what he was saying, instead examining his hair and muttering to herself about how it's texture had changed and it felt like silk and did it have magical properties because they might be quite useful in some beauty products and she knew a company that would be interested…

Astoria Malfoy: mother hen and entrepreneur extraordinaire.

Draco didn't answer, so Scorpius added, "It was, ah, quite intense. A bit frightening."

"Oh, you got a fright. How terrible," Draco said in a tone that had all the sympathy of a dead house plant. Which is to say, none at all, "When I was in first year, Potter and I came across a Professor who had Voldemort living on the back of his head drinking unicorn blood. If you didn't have a near-death experience in that forest than you're seriously over-reacting."

Scorpius' eye twitched. Understanding dawned across his father's face.

"Oh fuck."

His mother - bless her heart - was still blissfully unaware of their conversation and seemed to be reciting possible applications of Veela hair in potion making. Scorpius watched as his father knocked the teapot off the table, the shattering noise drawing his wife's attention.

"Good heavens!" She gasped, hands pressed to her heart in shock before scolding, "Draco!"

Draco acted abashed very well, smiling at his wife lovingly with a touch of regret.

"Oh, look what I've done. Damn. Must still be half asleep," he beamed at her with a look that made Scorpius sometimes questioned whether his father really had skipped the veela generation because he sure seemed to be able to charm the pants off his mother with very little effort (not to mention he looked at her like she owned the sun), "Darling, could you fetch us another please? I'll take care of this mess. I feel so silly."

Astoria smiled at him good-naturedly and patted Scorpius on the shoulder as she stood from her seat.

"You really must be more careful, dear," she called as she retreated to the kitchen, muttering about the importance of keeping fine china for pristine tea-brewing. In her absence, Draco leant across the table to whisper to his son in a rapid-fire discussion.

"What happened?"

"There was a Chimaera. Rose almost died."

" _What?!_ Why _the fuck_ was there a Chimaera in the forest?"

"Something to do with the Triwizard tournament-"

"Oh so they are doing that again?"

Trust his father to focus on literally the least important detail of the whole story.

"Not. The point. Father."

"Right, right," Draco refocused, "Chimaera. Rose almost died - go on."

"We were on detention and there was a Chimaera and it lunged for Rose and," Scorpius swallowed heavily, "…and I blacked out."

Draco blinked at him, "You blacked out?"

"Yes," Scorpius felt his cheeks flushing at the memories swimming through his head, "By the time I came to I was drowning in the lake before Weasley managed to pull me out. And when we were at the Hospital Wing Weasley told me my hair was glowing."

"Holy fuck."

"Yep!"

"You don't remember anything?"

"Nothing."

"And Rose?"

"She hit her head so she's a bit fuzzy, but…" he ran a hand through his unicorn-hair, "But she remembers flames. And she was babbling about wings."

"Oh _fuck_."

" _I told you it was serious!"_

"What's serious?" Astoria asked, gliding back into the room in her billowing silks, fresh pot of tea held daintily in her finely-manicured hands.

"Nothing!" Draco covered with a smile and far-too much enthusiasm to be very convincing, "His hair. He thinks everyone will stare at him."

"Well it is very pretty," Astoria beamed with pride. Bless his mother's heart, she was one of the kindest people he knew.

"Not helping dear." Draco added and she changed her tune.

"Not that it hasn't always been! You've always had beautiful hair, darling. Now it's just a little bit _more_ beautiful," she smiled widely at him and refilled everyone's tea, "I bet no one else will even notice."

Scorpius gave her a weak smile, "Thanks mum, but I glow like a Christmas tree."

"I wouldn't say a Christmas tree," Astoria admonished before taking on a speculative tone, "It's much more like a unicorn."

Draco almost spat out his tea he was laughing so hard and Scorpius threw his arms in the air in defeat.

"Did I miss something?" Astoria asked innocuously.

"You two are as bad as each other!" Scorpius accused, crossing his arms angrily.

"Well you're the looks in this family, Scorpius," Draco smirked at him, using that talent of his to turn a compliment into an insult, "your mother and I have to be the brains."

Astoria was smiling lovingly, his father had barely recovered from his laughing fit, and everyone was being far too fucking calm for Scorpius' liking. This was a travesty. He was glowing. _Glowing_. Did they not understand that this would have serious repercussions in his life?!

"This isn't funny," Scorpius said to them both, unimpressed with their blasé attitudes.

"It's a little bit funny," his father said with a smile.

"How am I going to deal with the children?" Scorpius exclaimed, looking between the two of them wildly.

Astoria's face was impassive and gentle when she replied, "I imagine the same as you always have. I mean, you're still able to speak perfectly well."

"Not. Helping. Mother." Scorpius said in a tone that was as mean as he dared to be to the woman who'd birthed him.

"What's your concern?" She asked gently again with genuine interested, "Does your hair play a role in how you teach?"

"What? No. No. Of course it doesn't!"

"Then I can't see why things would have to change," she shrugged with a smile like she'd just solved all his problems. Which, obviously, she hadn't.

"Because everyone will know I'm a veela," he said it slowly and meaningfully because apparently the early hour was making both of his parents a little bit dumb, "You don't think that's going to raise a few eyebrows?"

"No one raises eyebrows at veelas teaching at Beauxbatons," Draco supplied haughtily, "Just because you're a man shouldn't change things. If anyone gives you shit about it, that's sexism; report them."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was just about the most Slytherin response he could think of to his problem.

"My gender isn't the issue here, father," he replied flatly.

"Then what is the issue?"

" _The fact that I am a magical anomaly!"_ great, now he was yelling like a mad man, _"_ I may be _the only_ male veela in _existence_."

There was a beat of silence before his father spoke.

"So it is a gender thing. I repeat - sexism."

"No! I mean, yes. I mean…" he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, subconsciously noting that it really was impossibly smooth now, "You're being deliberately facetious and I am having a _crisis_."

"This is hardly a crisis, dear," Astoria placed one of her hands delicately on her lap, the other resting on Draco's thigh, and smiled at him, "I know it can be scary when your body starts going through new changes-"

How was this his life? "Oh Merlin please don't."

"But this is also a time of great excitement-" she continued, unconcerned with his _very obvious distress._

"You are _not_ giving me the puberty talk."

Astoria continued unperturbed, "You may find that you start noticing different things about your body that weren't there before, and it can make you feel a bit self-conscious-"

Scorpius looked to his father desperately.

"Father, if you love me, avada me now. Please." Draco just smirked at him. Talk about betrayal.

"But everyone else is going through the same things," his mother said with a gentle smile.

"No mum, there is literally no one else alive thatis going through the same things I am. That's the point," he huffed, stirring his cooling tea pointlessly, "I'm rarer than a goddam phoenix."

His father snorted. _Snorted._ This was not the kind of response he was hoping for.

"How precocious. Anyone would think you think this makes you special."

"Draco!" Astoria scolded her husband with a tap on the knee, "Of course he's special!"

"Why did I think I was going to get sympathy from my family?" Scorpius sighed. That made his father beam with something akin to pride.

"I don't know," Draco said, "you'd think you really would have learnt by now that we don't do that here."

"I sympathise with you dear," his mother said reassuringly, "this is a very difficult time in a young man's life-"

"Mum, please not again."

"I really think you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion," his father said in a gentler tone, "You're Scorpius Malfoy - you have a reputation for out-dressing everyone in the room. Just convince people you're testing some new glamour charms."

"It's always better to be over dressed than under dressed," Scorpius said a touch defensively, although he did concede that his father's plan had some merit.

"That's my boy," Astoria beamed with pride and tapped his knee. He got his sense of style from his mother that was for sure. His father's entire wardrobe consisted of various pieces that would be best described as 'funeral chic'. Scorpius may stick to the darker end of the colour spectrum, but his clothes had a certain amount of pizzazz to them, much like his mother's collection of couture robes in every colour available. He supposed, all things considered, it would not be a stretch of the imagination for someone to assume he was simply taking extra measures to make himself look polished.

"Honestly - if you keep your hair tied up it won't do…" his father gestured to where his hair was wafting in the non-existent breeze, " _that_. And as for your skin, just so long as the room's well-lit it will barely be noticeable at all."

"I work in the dungeons," Scorpius said matter-of-factly, "It's not exactly the best-lit area of Hogwarts."

Draco levelled him with a flat look. "Oh no. There's absolutely nothing you can do about that. Never mind that you're a _wizard_ or anything, you definitely wouldn't be able to acquire some more candles to fix that problem. You're clearly doomed."

Scorpius bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from calling his father a prat in front of his mother.

"I still don't think it's anything to try and hide, darling," his mother said with a bright smile, "It's just another part of who you are."

Bless his mother's too-pure heart. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Not everyone is as welcoming and accepting as you are, mother," Scorpius answered genuinely, "They may consider this just another reason to hate me."

"Another reason?" Astoria sounded personally offended, "What reason do they already have?!"

Scorpius flicked his eyes to his father who was looking into his teacup, a sad look of understanding painting his features. He wasn't going to bring up their family's history now; it was too early or late for that bullshit and it would go on for hours (Astoria was fervently opposed to anyone judging 'her boys' without getting to know them personally and would argue quite passionately about it for hours on end if allowed).

"I'm very strict on the students," Scorpius said instead, "Some of the kids and the teachers think unfairly so. I'm sure a lot of them would be keen to be rid of me."

Astoria's face was thunder. "Well I'd like to see them try."

Yeah, there was no way in hell his mother could ever find out about the Chimaera. She would tear literal shreds off everyone who had anything to do with it.

The mood in the room had changed and Scorpius was incredibly thankful when his father took the opportunity to wrap up what was supposed to be a support session and had somehow turned into a personal roast.

"Well I think that's enough of a discussion for tonight," Draco said as he stood up, "Scorpius - tie your hair up, cover as much of your skin as you can, and make sure the dungeons are well-lit. There - problem solved."

"It feels like you aren't taking my concerns seriously."

"It feels like your concerns aren't very serious," his father replied, extending his hand to his wife who took it as she rose elegantly from her seat. They walked hand-in-hand to the fireplace, Scorpius trailing behind. Astoria turned to face him and reached forward to take his hands.

"Do think about forgoing your suppressant, will you dear?" She said imploringly, holding his hands tightly as her eyes threatening to spill over with tears again, "It was important when you were in school and everyone's hormones were crazy enough, but you're an adult now - things are different. And maybe this way you can find your soulmate. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

So far? No, not in the slightest.

Before he could answer, Astoria continued, "This is a gift, darling, and the world deserves to love all of you just like your father and I do."

She pecked him on the cheek and stepped into the fireplace. When Draco didn't immediately follow, she looked at him questioningly.

"Are you coming, love?"

"In a moment," he said with a tight smile, "Scorpius and I need to discuss something just between us."

His mother raised an unimpressed eyebrow and appeared to be readying herself to argue. Draco cut her off before she could start.

"Veela-penis stuff," his father answered.

And yeah, if someone could just erase this memory forever he'd be eternally grateful.

The answer seemed appease his mother who nodded in understanding before flooing back to the Manor. Scorpius and Draco were left standing in silence for several moments before the older man spoke.

"So," Draco stayed firmly focused on the fireplace, avoiding Scorpius' gaze, "I guess this has just made you all the more determined to acquire a cure then?"

"I…" Scorpius faltered, before answering honestly, "I don't know."

That piqued his father's interest, although the man kept his face deliberately impassive. When he stayed silent, Scorpius continued to speak.

"Tonight was terrifying on a level I have never experienced before," his voice was coarse and the fear from the evening came bubbling up once more, "All I kept thinking was that I needed Rose to be safe. And then when she was unconscious the thought of her dying, that I might lose her was just…just driving me mad. And I didn't even _like her_ last week."

His father, very wisely, didn't start with his ' _you've always been flirting'_ bullshit like he did earlier in the week and instead let the silence hang over them, sensing his son had more to say.

Scorpius remembered the feel of Rose's breath against his neck, her disorientated mumblings, her blood on his hands. He felt an overwhelming urge to vomit again, but successfully held it down. But there was something else, more than just the thought of losing her that was causing him angst; Rose Weasley fought to save her enemies just as much as she fought to save herself. She was brave, and selfless, and determined like no one else he knew. Given what she'd done tonight, how she kept fighting to save him when letting him go would have been the easy and safe option, filled his head with self-doubt. His greatest concern now was not whether or not he could love her; it was whether or not he deserved to.

"She saved my life twice tonight, when it would have been easier just to let me die," his voice was an unsteady whisper and he couldn't look his father in the eye, "She was brave and courageous without having a veela telling her to keep me safe. And even when she was losing consciousness she just wanted to know that the students were alright, and she risked her life for me and… And I don't know if I can be good enough for her."

They stood in silence for several long moments before his father spoke.

"That's not a veela thing, you know?" Draco said quietly. Scorpius gave him a questioning look, encouraging him to continue, "The constant worrying and second guessing; that's not a veela thing. When I first started dating your mother I was terrified she was going to wake up one day and come to her senses - she'd realised she was dating a Death Eater and would never speak to me again. The fear of losing her was almost enough for me to call it off before I fell more head over heels than I already was. And if she hadn't been quite as resilient and insistent I just may have."

Draco looked him in the eye and gave him a soft smile.

"I don't always like your mother, Scorpius - she's a huge pain in my ass somedays and her compulsion to attend social gatherings drives me crazy. But I love her, every day, because we're equals even if we're not always complimentary."

Scorpius had never heard his father speak so passionately about anything. A very large part of him - the part that he had in fact inherited from Draco, wanted to make some joke to diffuse the weird atmosphere because sharing feelings just wasn't what the Malfoy men did. But he knew what a giant step it was for his father to be vulnerable like this, so he kept his mouth shut and listened attentively.

"Your veela wouldn't have chosen Rose if it didn't think you had a chance - that's a safety net that most of us don't get when it comes to loving someone," his father gave him an encouraging smile that Scorpius was quite sure he'd learned from Astoria, "You've literally got wings Scorpius; maybe it's time you put them to good use and took a leap of faith."

The older man shrugged and stepped into the fire place, suddenly sarcastic and back to his regular self.

"Or you could continue antagonising her and hope she has a thing for masochism - the choice is yours."

Scorpius coughed out a laugh - way to break the tension. "Gross."

"Well that's payback for waking me up at 1:00am," Draco smirked again, "Keep me informed will you? I find this all incredibly entertaining."

His father said ' _Malfoy Manor!',_ threw the floo powder down, and disappeared into the green flames once more. With his quarters finally empty, Scorpius let out a breath he didn't even realise he'd been holding. His body felt overwhelmingly tired, as if the evening's stress had suddenly taken it's toll on him all at once. He took himself to bed, pulling the covers up around him to bring him a comfort he was so desperately craving. The covers didn't solve it. He instinctually knew that the only person who could was sleeping in the Hospital Wing.

Scorpius thought about his situation and decided that he would take tomorrow as it came. Maybe he'd only started glowing because Rose had almost died - maybe this wasn't a constant thing. He severely doubted it, but he could live in hope. But for now, all he needed and wanted was to go to sleep and forget that this evening ever happened.

He closed his eyes and prepared for the world to fade away.

When he dreamt, he heard her voice and felt her arms wrapped around him in the darkness.

 _It's ok_ , she said, _I've got you_.

He didn't wake until morning.

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _I wanted to get this chapter up as soon as possible because it really felt like Chapter 7 part 2 rather than it's own separate piece. I know most of you who reviewed were looking forward to Scorpius and Rose interactions so you might be a little disappointed with this update. I'm sorry! Scorose will be heavily featured in the next chapter, I promise! Hope you enjoyed meeting Mama Malfoy, I sure enjoyed writing her :)_

 _All my love to all of you. Until next time xo_


	9. Chapter 9

_Hi lovelies!_

 _I felt super bad about leaving you waiting for so long for the newest update. So to make it up to you, I wrote 27 pages. Enjoy! This really could have been split into two parts, but I feel like we're all a bit desperate for some Scorose interaction so I kept it all together. Don't expect updates to be this big in future._

 _I don't really have much to say about this chapter other than I hope you enjoy it. And if you do, feel free to drop me a review_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 9 – What's Good for the Goose is Good for the Gander**

Despite Neville's assurance that he could take the day off, Scorpius still intended to attend all his classes the following day. The thought of sitting in his room surrounded by Rose's scent doing nothing but wondering if she was still breathing would send him mad. Classes seemed like a relatively painless evil by comparison. There was just one thing he had to conquer first: how to handle the glowing.

Staring at himself in the mirror in the morning light, Scorpius was thankful to see that his glowing was not as obvious as it had been in the darkness. Whether that was because the room was brighter or the glowing had lessened he didn't know, and he honestly didn't care; he wasn't glowing as much as last night and that's all that mattered. His hair was still wavy, and it was definitely shinier than usual, but the halo effect wasn't as obvious. When he pulled it up on top of his head like he normally did, he was very happy to see that it didn't continue to move or shift.

He would take every small mercy he could get.

His skin seemed bright but not so much to be unnatural. It just seemed like it was particularly healthy, and he didn't mind that effect at all. Scorpius decided it was probably best to dress in something in a lighter shade than the standard black he usually wore to teach, hopeful that something that would create less of a contrast would make his slightly iridescent skin less obvious. He ended up selecting a light grey robe with slightly darker grey suit underneath. He looked smart, polished.

Other-worldly.

He hoped people would just assume he was being particularly vain. It shouldn't be too much of a stretch of the imagination.

Despite the late hour he'd been up to having The Conversation That Shall Never Be Spoken About Again with his mother and father, Scorpius found himself awake bright and early Friday morning, which would mean that attending breakfast was an option. Whether or not he wanted to go still needed to be established. On the one hand, it would be considered odd for him to miss breakfast twice in one week and his absence may draw more attention to him. On the other hand, walking into a room full of hundreds of people increased his chances of someone noticing something wasn't quite right about him. Scorpius eventually decided that sticking to the status quo and just pretending that everything was normal was his best chance of avoiding suspicion. Besides, no doubt Neville would want to see him this morning to prove he hadn't died in his sleep (which, despite sleeping through the night, hadn't seemed to have revived him very much at all). He figured, given he was going to be a bit late to breakfast, that he could just slip in along the side wall, not draw any unwanted attention, get some sustenance and then proceed with his day as normal.

He had been _spectacularly_ wrong.

The second he stepped foot in the Great Hall, it was as if trumpets had sounded to announce his arrival. Students turned to face him. Silence. Nothing but silence. Everyone had stopped speaking at the sight of him, instead favouring to stare openly. Was it the hair? Merlin it was the hair wasn't it? Had he been a lesser man, he may have turned and run with his tail between his legs and refused to face the world again until this whole thing had sorted itself out. But he was Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy - he was not going to flee. No matter how tempting the prospect was.

Scorpius continued to walk along the side of the Great Hall, the momentarily silent room now filled with hushed whispers and excited murmuring.

Nefarious youths.

He kept his strides long and sure, not giving in to the temptation to attempt to tip-toe or sneak. His arrival had been noted, he may as well look like he was lapping up the attention (children could smell fear. Just like wolves). He chanced a quick look at Neville who looked like he'd been up most of the night worrying but wore it less fashionably then Scorpius did. There was a crease at the centre of his forehead, not one of confusion, but more of frustration. He had probably assumed Scorpius would heed his offer and not return to work today.

Somedays it just felt like Neville really didn't _get_ him.

After walking the length of the Great Hall - which honestly felt like it was double the distance it usually was - he reached the teacher's table to eat, suddenly quite hungry. He tried his best to remain composed and refined whilst simultaneously shovelling food into his mouth at break neck speeds. He liked to think that he was at least partially successful.

Just when he had a sausage half way to his mouth, the empty seat to his right was occupied when a female body dumped itself rather unceremoniously next to him. A stern, weather-worn face looked back at him.

Phillipa Grubbly-Plank.

Thoughts spiralled through his mind in such quick succession that he didn't know how to appropriately respond.

The first thought he had was that as the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, she probably had something to do with the "containment" of the Chimaera. Which meant she was partially responsible for Rose being in the Hospital Wing and therefore deserved to be made to answer for her gross incompetence. He had an innate desire to scream in her face.

 _Hurt mate. Must be punished._

The second thought was that it was incredibly odd for Grubbly-Plank to make the effort to come and speak to him. He could count on one hand the number of conversations they'd had since he became a teacher here and was no longer her pupil. They hadn't so much avoided each other as they had just never had much to do with each other. Which signalled one thing - she was drawn to him. To his veela.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. OH FUCK.

"Professor Malfoy," she started, her tone not unkind but not exactly pleasant, "I wasn't expecting to see you this morning."

Had she been thinking about him? Had she dreamt of him? Was she infected by his aura? Was she sitting closer to him than strictly necessary?

Maybe he did need to see Pomfrey; he wasn't sure he was breathing properly.

He decided to play dumb.

"I always have classes on Friday mornings, Professor," Scorpius said casually, smile tight and unconvincing, "It would be more unusual if I wasn't here."

She let out a huff under her breath that he wasn't sure whether she intended him to hear or not.

"Given last night's events I assumed you'd be taking a personal day," her tone wasn't exactly accusatory, but it wasn't light and inquisitive either. He wasn't sure what to make of this whole situation. He assumed she probably knew more than most, given that Neville had likely sent her out to deal with the beast in some capacity after whatever the hell happened between he, Rose, and the Chimaera. Scorpius knew when someone was fishing for information however, and Phillipa might as well have strolled up in wellingtons with a giant rod she was being so obvious. Scorpius knew the best way to deal with such situations was simply to continue playing dumb. Which, despite his considerable intellect, he managed to do very well.

"I'm perfectly fine, Phillipa," he smiled tightly at her, "Though your concern is noted and appreciated."

The older woman's eyes flittered over his face, as if seeing it for the first time. Holy shit, his beauty must be too much for human eyes. He really needed to get out of here.

"You know I think I might just- " she interrupted him before he could finish his escape.

"Very odd, what happened in the Forbidden Forrest," she said, as if hoping he would fill the gaping loose end between them with a detailed description of last night's events. He hoped she was prepared to be disappointed.

"I'll have to take your word for it," he said with as little enthusiasm as he could muster, "I don't remember any of it."

"None of it?" Phillipa exclaimed at a decibel level higher than what could be considered polite given they were having this discussion over breakfast. Her little spat caused a few of the surrounding Professors to look at them. He hoped embarrassment didn't cause glowing because if it did he was about to become fucking supernova.

"Barely anything," he muttered, deciding that as stupidity wasn't working, he needed to change things up a bit and move into his ever faithful cruel streak to end this discussion, "And even if I did recall a very traumatic event that resulted in the hospitalisation of a staff member, I'm sure I wouldn't want to discuss it in the Dining Hall the following morning. I'd imagine I'd much rather just eat my food in peace and have a few moments to myself to digest both my food, and the incident itself."

Phillipa raised an eyebrow at him and he imagined she was fighting against her desire to regress about 10 years and start berating him like she did when he was a pupil in her class. However, he saw the begrudging realisation pass over her features that she had to accept he was a staff member and was therefore not required to provide information he didn't want to. He could tell she didn't find the prospect very appealing.

"Just wanting to make sure you're not coming back to work too soon, Professor Malfoy," her tone was a touch more gentle, kind of in the same way being lacerated by a cheese grater was more gentle than being knocked over the head with a sledge hammer, "If you need a day in bed to recover you should take it. Your body must have been through a lot."

Had the conversation turned vaguely sexual or was that just in his mind? On the one hand, she was not being overtly physical or giving off any kind of flirtatious eye contact or eye lash flutters. On the other hand, she was mentioning bed and his body being through a lot. Was she about to offer him a massage? Oh Merlin almighty he might vomit.

Scorpius shovelled food into his mouth to prevent the scream that so desperately wanted to erupt from his throat.

He smiled around his food - the most undignified he'd ever been at the Dining Table when not in close proximity to Rose Weasley - and shook his head.

"I assaw oo Fewipa," he mumbled around the convulsed bacon and eggs, "'m good."

She swept her gaze over him and he really wanted to disappear into the floor.

"Ok," she said, sounding unconvinced, "But if you're back in the forest and you start feeling… _funny_ ," did she mean aroused. _Dear God DID SHE MEAN AROUSED?!_ , "Come and see me, won't you?"

He most certainly would not.

Scorpius didn't tell her this though, instead he nodded around his mouthful of food and made a hurried excuse to leave the Dining Hall quite abruptly. Which he failed to recognise was an ill-conceived plan until he pushed himself away from the table, stood, and heard the room fall silent once more.

All eyes were on him.

Him and his shiny goddam hair.

Scorpius pushed his shoulders back, held his head high, adjusted his collar, and strode from the room like he owned it.

He was sure they didn't notice he was barely breathing.

Collapsing against the wall outside, he gathered his breath and tried to lower his heart rate. Things were ok, this was fine, he was probably just reading into Phillipa's comments too much. There was no cause for alarm, he was just going to walk down to the dungeons and prepare for the day's lessons.

His feet, it would appear, had other thoughts; for they led him right to the Hospital Wing.

Considering he had a bit of extra time after cutting his breakfast short, he thought he may as well check on Rose. The one wrench in his plans was Pomfrey, who apparently had a sixth sense to know when he was in close proximity to the Hospital Wing and also did not require food like most humans.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said the second his foot crossed the threshold of the Hospital Wing, materialising from Merlin only knows where, "Come to finally get your examination? Better late than never. Take a seat."

Scorpius stepped away from the seat she'd summoned across the floor. Surely that couldn't be good for the marble.

"As I told you last night, Madam Pomfrey, that won't be necessary," he smiled tightly at her, "I'm feeling quite well."

Her huff indicated she thought he was lying. "You could still be in shock."

"Twelve hours after the fact? That sounds unlikely," he hoped the smile on his face lessened the blow of him outwardly disagreeing with her about a diagnosis. She glared at him. The smile didn't appear to have worked. Maybe she was half-Harpy and therefore immune to his charms.

"It's been less that twelve hours since you were here," she pointed out with a twitch of the eyebrow, "It's been barely seven hours."

Seven hours. He was going to try and face a classroom full of students on significantly less than seven hours of sleep. It was official - he was a mad man. Maybe he needed an assessment after all.

But like hell he was going to go through with it.

"Still, shock wouldn't have lasted that long - I'm telling you I'm fine."

"Then why are you here?" Pomfrey asked suspiciously. It occurred to him for the briefest of moments that she may think he was here to cause Rose more damage. No, no, surely not. He didn't mean to brag but he did carry her up here from the boat house. Surely that had to count for something in peoples' minds (including Rose's hopefully). Scorpius gave what he hoped was a convincingly ambivalent shrug.

"Just on my way through," he picked at his fingernails for good measure, "Just thought I'd see how Weasley was this morning."

"Still not awake," Pomfrey answered abruptly. There was an anxious clawing at the base of his skull, his hands suddenly flexed and he had to focus very hard on not taking any further steps into the Hospital Wing. He wanted to - _Merlin_ he wanted to- and he had to consciously fight his instincts to prevent himself from making any movements.

 _Must see mate. Must be with mate. Keep her safe!_

"She is safe," he muttered to himself. Salazar be damned, he was now officially talking to this goddam bird brain _out loud_. Merlin Almighty he needed this thing out of his head.

"Was that supposed to be a question or a statement, Mr. Malfoy?" Pomfrey bristled and assessed him critically again, "She is receiving the best care available as does everyone who visits my Hospital Wing."

He smiled at her, hoping she didn't notice the sweat appearing at the top of his forehead, and took a backwards step towards the safety of the corridor, "I didn't mean to suggest otherwise, Madam Pomfrey. Just…reassuring myself. Of something very obvious. That I have of course always known."

Was it getting warm in here or was it just the anxiety and embarrassment that was suffocating him slowly?

Madam Pomfrey advanced slowly, one greying eyebrow raised in speculation. "I think it would be best if you stayed and had an assessment, Mr. Malfoy. You seem a bit…frazzled."

What a nice way of saying 'in shock'. Scorpius smiled brightly and stepped backwards with more haste, edging into the corridor to the comfort of the rising voices of students vacating the Great Hall and getting to classes. What an exceptionally well timed distraction.

"I'm fine, yes yes, definitely fine, but I've gotta get off to classes. Been lovely chatting, I'll drop back if I think I'm entering shock. Have a lovely day!"

He damn near sprinted away from the Hospital Wing, the older woman's protests dying in the chorus of students filling the corridors. And if the students thought it odd, they very wisely said absolutely nothing about it.

* * *

Despite the reassurance that she was receiving the best possible care in the Hospital Wing, Scorpius found himself incapable of erasing the image of Rose lying unconscious and bloody on the bed from his mind. Rationally he knew he was being ridiculous - she would be taken care of with the utmost care and respect, and probably just looked like she was sleeping. His bird brain wasn't very rational however, so instead he pictured her close to death, black and blue, and calling to him to save her.

And that's about the time that his hands started shaking.

He tried to distract himself, to shake off the terror and the fear by picturing her differently - by retraining his brain to remember her at her lively moments. Like when she smiled at her students. And when she yelled at him with passion and fury in her eyes. And that time she sighed his name when they were in bed together.

Oh wait, no, that's never happened.

Didn't stop the really fucking inconvenient erection he now had though.

 _Dumbledore's pimpled asscrack_ his body was betraying him constantly these days.

He leant against a wall, took a few steadying breaths and tried to think of things to calm his fucking penis down.

His grandfather in drag. Hector the Asshole chasing him around the yard. Acromantulas drooling. Getting a kiss from the Giant Squid.

Giant Squid.

Black Lake.

Black Water.

Darkness.

Drowning.

Rose.

Dying.

Ok, no more thoughts about the Giant Squid or the lake.

Good news - no more erection.

Bad news - hands were still shaking.

As he focused on walking to class as briskly as possible, Scorpius developed a strategy for how to deal with the intrusive thoughts he had about Rose. Every time he thought about her almost dying, he would think of a time when she was very much alive. And every time that led to him thinking about Rose amorously, he would distract himself with something she did that annoyed him.

So in his first period, when he went to the supply room to retrieve ingredients and was reminded about the feeling of being close to Rose, he immediately followed the thought up with a memory of her dropping into his classroom unannounced to yell at him in front of his students.

Then when he was walking down the corridors between classes and he remembered how she felt with her arm thrown over his shoulders and how soft she was in his arms, Scorpius remembered when he had to scrub these floors without magic after one of their spats had them serving detention together on cleanup duty for a month in fifth year.

And at lunch, when he past a red-headed student and automatically thought of how Rose's hair didn't look right when it was cemented wet against her skull after she'd dragged him half-dead out of the lake, Scorpius instead tried to remember that time she set his hair on fire as retribution for him blowing up her herbology assignment.

What bothered him was that all these memories didn't seem to be conjuring the disgust and deep-rooted hatred he had hoped. In fact, most of the memories just made him smile to himself. Which was not at all helpful.

By the time his last period for the day came around - Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, not the worst combination but not his favourite - Scorpius was well and truly agitated. Poorly rested, unable to see Rose, and in desperate need of a Firewhiskey, he had barked at the students angrily the second they walked into the room.

And no one - not one of them - even flinched. They just nodded, muttered an apology and got to work as he'd instructed. In fact, all of his classes had been astoundingly well behaved today. It was suspicious. Like when one of the second year Ravenclaw students repeatedly asked him about last night, rather than Scorpius telling them off for being intrusive and annoying, it was a Gryffindor student that gave them a swift elbow and told them to shut it. And the following period, when he had Gryffindors and Slytherins (it should be illegal to have so many classes with Gryffindors in them on a Friday), there was none of the usual squabbling or arguing or pranking. Everyone just sat patiently and did as he instructed. The whole day had just been bloody odd, and this final lot of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs weren't making anything easier by being incredibly pleasant.

Scorpius snapped at them that anyone that messed around would face detention for a month and all he got in return was an obedient ' _yes Professor'_. When he cut their prep time down by five minutes no one argued, they simply nodded and worked harder and faster. When a student had a question they raised their hand and waited patiently for his response, and barely even scowled when he answered them rudely.

It was fucking weird and Scorpius didn't like it one bit.

When the class finally finished - and, by extension, his day - Scorpius was tempted to summon some Firewhiskey from his quarters and just start drinking right here. He bloody deserved it. He was not, however, alone in his classroom.

Eli Wolfenberg walked up to his desk after class, looking suspiciously reserved for a boy who was due to be serving detention with him tomorrow and missing Quidditch as a result. Scorpius quickly scanned the boy's hands for any likely projectiles he planned to throw in his face.

"Yes, Mr. Wolfenberg?" He asked, eyebrow raised at the boy as he went about sorting his papers and definitely _not_ calculating the exact amount of Firewhiskey required to knock him out for the night.

"Just wondering if there's anything I need to bring with me tomorrow morning?" The brown-haired boy asked very politely, rocking back on his heels slightly in a nervous tick. Odd. Very suspicious.

"Just a strong stomach," Scorpius smiled slyly, imagining the boy's displeasure at cleaning old cauldrons that he'd deliberately let fester and rot. The insufferably pleasant boy just nodded in response.

"Righto, will do." Eli rocked on his heels again and looked around the room but didn't move. The boy was lingering. Scorpius detested lingerers, especially when he had plans for getting wasted.

"And, uh, what time tomorrow, Professor?" Wolfenberg asked a tad nervously. Scorpius mentally reminded himself that the boy wasn't being unpleasant, so it was therefore not appropriate to yell at him or otherwise maim him.

It was bloody tempting though.

"9:00am - as you were told when I gave you detention," he added in an unimpressed tone.

"Right! Right! Of course!" Eli ran a hand through his hair but still remained firmly where he was. It was clear Wolfenberg wanted to say something else and Scorpius simply did not have the patience to stand here and wait for him to summon the apparent courage he needed to say it.

"It's clear you've got something to say, Wolfenberg, I suggest you spit it out before I lose my patience and stop being charming."

The boy started to laugh, thought better of it, and tried to cover his faux pass with an unconvincing cough.

"Well, you see, the thing is," hand through the hair again. Merlin almighty he really did scare the students. Good. "People are saying that you saved Professor Weasley last night. That she almost got eaten by a Chimaera."

"Are they just?" His tone was low and ringing with caution. He really didn't want to be having this conversation with a student, "I wouldn't trust everything you hear. Students have an unmatched propensity for making things up."

"Oh, so you didn't save her?"

And then Scorpius did something really stupid - he froze.

Scorpius wasn't sure how to answer it because he wasn't entirely sure if it was true or not. He didn't know what happened. Rose seemed to think he'd saved her if her near incomprehensible babbling could be trusted (and it very likely couldn't), but Scorpius honestly didn't remember how they got to the lake, or what happened directly beforehand.

"Professor Weasley is more than capable of saving herself," he said finally, priding himself on the neutrality of the statement. Despite the fact that he was apparently incapable of reading a simple text prior to class, Wolfenberg did seem to be annoyingly adept at reading between the lines. He gave Scorpius a small smile and a subtle shrug.

"I'm sure she is, sir, but um," he stumbled over his words. Again. "If you did happen to help Professor Weasley, in any way, I just wanted to…well, I just wanted to say thanks."

"Whatever for?" He asked before thinking better of it. Wolfenberg's easy smile - which Scorpius had to try very fucking hard not to sneer at - stayed in place, it's warmth lighting up the boy's features.

"She's one of the best Professors at Hogwarts, plus all the first years love her - they would have been devastated if-"

"Yes well she didn't," Scorpius covered quickly, completely horrified at the idea of hearing a student elude to Rose almost dying and risking having a panic attack right in from of him (because that would have been _mortifying_ \- the students simply couldn't know he had _emotions_. He had a reputation to uphold), "Professor Weasley is perfectly fine and-"

"Thanks to you."

Scorpius froze again. This Wolfenberg kid seemed absolutely determined to make him out to be some kind of hero. Which he wasn't - plenty of other people would have done the same had they been physically capable of it. Hell, Neville probably would have done it had Scorpius let him. It was just the polite thing to do, and his mother always raised him to be polite. He didn't always chose to be polite, but he knew the basic principles.

"I'm not sure what you've heard, but all I did was accompany Professor Weasley to the Hospital Wing where she was seen to by Madam Pomfrey; that's it."

Wolfenberg nodded with a smile that hinted he was part of some inside joke. Scorpius didn't like it.

"Well, we're glad Professor Weasley survived. Of course we're glad you survived too!" He added as a very clear afterthought, blushing at his mistake.

"Oh yes," Scorpius laughed, "I'm sure if things were reversed you would be thanking Professor Weasley for - theoretically - saving me too."

"Honestly, sir?" Wolfenberg smiled at him knowingly, "If things were reversed, and I'd _heard_ that Professor Weasley had managed to fight off a Chimaera, evacuate four students back to Hogwarts unharmed, and then carried an injured Professor all the way from the Great Lake to the Hospital Wing without any help or magic, I'd probably be asking her what workouts she's been doing."

Scorpius allowed himself to smile genuinely, "I'm sure, if that were the case, Professor Weasley would tell you that adrenaline allows the body to do some incredible things."

"You're probably right," Wolfenberg hesitated a moment, "But yeah, I'd still thank her. And tell her she was a legend."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that."

The tension from the room had eased and Scorpius felt like a bit of a cad for acting so terribly towards the students all day. Word had apparently spread incredibly quickly about last night's events, and, looking back, it would appear his students were being respectful because of how supposedly heroic he'd been. They probably deserved a bit better than being berated all day. It could be argued that he owed them an apology, or at the very least, a bit more leniency next week.

One could argue that, didn't mean he was going to do it.

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable and having said all he wanted to, Eli gave an awkward half wave and took a step backwards towards the (still not entirely repaired) door of the dungeon.

"Yeah. Well, I'll see you tomorrow at 9:00am, sir."

The boy gave one last smile and turned to walk outside. He was half-way to the exit when Scorpius heard himself call out to him.

"Eli, wait!" Scorpius gave a heavy sigh as he leant back against the edge of his desk, rubbing his temples at his impending headache, "Do you know why I gave you detention?"

"Because I didn't do the reading?" Eli shrugged.

"Yes. No." He sighed again - it wasn't that simple. Seemed he'd have to treat him like an idiot after all. Convenient that being a prat came so naturally to him, "Do you know why I asked you to do the reading in the first place?"

The Gryffindor boy looked a bit sheepish as he rubbed his arm and gave another half-shrug, "Because without it I wouldn't be ready for the lesson?"

"Yes," Scorpius' voice was balanced and without judgement as he explained himself, "When I set readings its because I need you to have that information before we start brewing. And if you, or anyone else, doesn't do the reading it will take twice the time for you to understand what's going on. And that's a waste of your classmate's time, a waste of my time, and a waste of your time in the lab. So, knowing that, what are you going to do the next time I set a reading to be done before class?"

"Do it before class, sir."

"Is that a guarantee?"

"Yes, sir." The boy nodded with a serious look on his face. It was as if he was an Auror receiving mission details rather than a student being told to be prepared for class. Scorpius didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or scowl. Looking at the student, he had to concede that maybe Eli wasn't intentionally being a nuisance like he had reasoned when he handed out the detention. And maybe he had done it specifically to force him to miss the Quidditch match. And maybe he did it almost entirely to get a rise out of Rose. Rose wouldn't be yelling at him tomorrow after Gryffindor inevitably lost the game like he had intended; she'd probably still be in the Hospital Wing recovering.

It had been a very big fucking week. He was exhausted. He didn't want to spend his Saturday supervising a student clean cauldrons. And that was why Scorpius made the decision he did.

"Then I guess making you serve detention tomorrow would be redundant," he said casually, organising some papers on his desk as if dismissing Wolfenberg. Eli visibly started.

"Sir?"

"I'm cancelling detention, Eli; you don't have to come in tomorrow," he waved towards the doorway, "Go play Quidditch instead. But if I call on you in class again and you haven't done the reading, it'll be Saturday detentions for a month. Understand?"

The kid's face almost broke his smile was so huge.

"Yes sir! Thanks Professor!"

"Don't mention it," Scorpius looked at the boy with a stern glare, "I mean it - I don't want other students thinking I've gone soft."

Eli smiled at him and gave a soft laugh, like they were suddenly pals or something. Which, to make things perfectly clear, they _weren't_. Scorpius was giving him a reprieve because he wanted the weekend to sleep. Not because he suddenly found the Gryffindor boy decent.

"With all due respect sir," Eli said, breaking Scorpius out of his inner reverie, "last night you fought off a Chimaera and saved five people's lives without getting a scratch. Trust me; no one thinks you're soft."

So the students would not only fear him, but also respect him now. It made him - dare he say it - happy. Scorpius allowed himself to smile at Eli.

"Thanks Eli. Now get out of my lab."

Watching the Gryffindor student retreat, he had a sudden thought.

"Actually Eli!" The boy stopped and turned to face him, "There is something I need to you do instead of detention. Do this favour and we'll call it even."

The boy agreed instantly, "Sure Professor - what is it?"

"How're your acting skills?"

* * *

As it would turn out, the Gryffindor Quidditch star was quite the thespian. Just as he had been instructed, Eli ran into the Hospital Wing straight after class, calling for Madam Pomfrey to come quickly, that McGregor (a second year student with a penchant for falling over and/or off things) had fallen off his broom and wasn't getting up. The matronly woman hurried after him, leaving her precious domain gloriously unattended.

Scorpius slid in like he was made of oil, moving with silent grace against the walls until he came to the cordoned off staff infirmary right at the rear of the wing. There was only one occupied bed. He had thought he was ready to see her.

He was wrong.

Apart from the bandage wrapped around her head, one might find it difficult to tell Rose had been seriously injured. She looked quite peaceful, as if she was sleeping. But Scorpius knew better. Rose Weasley was supposed to be lively, full of energy, bursting with so much enthusiasm and life that it was overwhelming and blinding. So seeing her lying in a hospital bed, dressed in a pair of nondescript pyjamas and hair tied atop her head under the bandage, it just seemed wrong.

He felt the feathery imprints on his back start to bristle and was momentarily terrified that they were about to rip through his clothes again.

 _Don't you dare,_ he felt himself murmur internally, _going feathery won't help anything_.

Something deep in his mind, something that was neither bird nor man, real nor imaginary, answered him.

 _Must. Help. Mate._ It answered desperately, clawing its way closer and closer to the front of his mind, _Let us help her._

Scorpius felt the desperation spread through his system, the perceived helplessness and how frenzied his veela felt at it's inability to act. Scorpius could empathise; he too wished he could do something more than watch and wait. But the reality was they'd done their part - now all they could do was wait for her to wake up.

 _You have helped - you got her here. Now we just have to wait for her to wake up,_ Scorpius answered, doing his best to sound sympathetic instead of exasperated. The tingling at his feathers ceased, and the beast stopped clawing and clutching at his skull, retreating to the deep recesses of his mind where he preferred him to stay once more. Maybe the stupid bird was more amenable than he originally thought.

Scorpius approached Rose's bedside tentatively, as if worried he'd startle her. Which was particularly stupid considering he _wanted_ her to wake up, therefore making more noise would have worked in his favour. But he also didn't want to bother her. If she needed rest to recover than he'd let her rest.

He just really wanted her to smile at him and tell him she was fine first.

He sat in the seat next to her bed slowly, considering whether or not it was appropriate to reach out and hold her hand. He leant forward so he could whisper to her without risking anyone else overhearing, an odd thought given every inhabitant of the Hospital Wing was unconscious.

"You in there Weasley?"

She didn't flinch. He tried again.

"Now's no time for a nap, Professor."

Nothing. Her chest continued to rise and fall slowly, eyes twitching behind closed lids. He felt his stomach drop and his veela whined inside him in despair. Scorpius had very rarely touched Rose Weasley, and most times he did it resulted in her punching him. Maybe holding her hand would inspire her to wake up and slog him in the gut. He'd honestly thank her if she did. He took her hand, disheartened by how clammy and cold it felt.

"Come on, Rose," he whispered, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb, "It's been a whole 24 hours and you haven't yelled at me yet - isn't that worth waking up for? Maybe curse me a bit? Set my hair on fire? Hex me into next week?"

He smiled at her the way she hated, hopeful it would encourage her to suddenly open her eyes and slap him.

She just kept sleeping.

Scorpius sighed and fought the urge to pull her towards him and hold her.

"Don't make me beg, Rose, even you're not that mean," he heard his voice falter as his bravado evaporated. Her chest rose. Her chest fell. Nothing else changed. He felt his eyes burning.

"I won't beg without some kind of sign you'll wake up once I do," he tried to bargain, resolve weak and hands shaking, "If you squeeze my hand right now I'll beg you to open your eyes - I promise."

Her hand was lifeless, her grip nonexistent. His throat constricted and his veela whined. This hopelessness, this _waiting_ \- it would be the death of them.

Scorpius swallowed his pride and his screams, patted her hand and forced himself to steal his emotions like he had done a thousand times before as he pasted his familiar fake smile of a contentment he didn't feel.

"Ok, Rose, I guess you need your rest," he pulled the chair closer and settled in, her hand still held gently in his own, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Scorpius closed his eyes. He did not sleep.

* * *

It was Sunday afternoon, the warm afternoon sun was lighting the Hospital Wing in a warm golden glow, and Scorpius had lost every last ounce of feeling in his ass.

He'd been sitting in the one damn seat since he left class on Friday, and despite getting up periodically to stretch his legs (or dive under the bed to avoid being spotted by Pomfrey doing rounds), he feared his ass may have been permanently flattened by the experience. Some time on Saturday morning he'd summoned his fifth year papers to give him something to mark and distract himself with rather than just staring at Rose until she opened her eyes. He'd talk to her, explain how a student had been particularly idiotic in their reasoning in their essay, tell her how he was going to fail one of her Gryffindor students and he was absolutely not going to feel bad about it. She still didn't budge. It made him feel less alone though. If he was left to just the silence and his thoughts he found himself falling into dark places, contemplating the possibility of her never waking up and what that would mean for himself and his veela. It was worst at night time, and he found he hadn't been able to sleep more than an hour at a time without waking up drenched in sweat and gasping for air, the lingering feeling of drowning turning his vision dark. In those hours he reached out to hold her hand and thanked her again for saving his life. Twice.

And if he shed a tear or two, then that was only between him and the darkness.

By the Sunday afternoon he'd marked all the papers he could, and was now reading some books from the Malfoy library he'd summoned to his side. Almost 3:30 in the afternoon and he had managed to read one page roughly 89 times without retaining any of it. It was almost impressive.

As he tried once more to restart the page of one of his long-dead relative's journals, something inside him bristled and came to attention. He automatically at up straighter, his senses were in tune, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, and he had to fight the urge to literally jump to his feet. A moment later he was able to process what was happening.

Rose's breathing pattern changed.

It quickened.

She groaned.

Her eyelids flickered.

She was waking up.

"Rose?" Scorpius hoped she couldn't hear the desperation colouring his tone, "Rose, can you hear me?"

Her long lashes fluttered as she forced her eyelids apart - blinking into the light. He may need a doctor, because he was quite sure she'd forced all air from his lungs.

At 3:28pm, Rose Weasley opened her beautiful blue eyes, turned to look at Scorpius, blinking into the light and croaked, "You're shiny."

The relieved sound of elation that came out of him was not human, and he would always deny it later, but he had to try very hard not to cry. He leant towards her, instinctually grasping her hand and dismissed her comment easily, too elated y her waking up to even contemplate walking away to hide his hair.

"You've been asleep for two days, everything's shiny to you."

Her eyes went wide. " _Two days?!_ "

Oh. Right. This was probably not the way you were supposed to welcome someone back into consciousness. There was probably some sort of routine that one was supposed to adhere to that absolutely did not include grinning at them like a fool and holding their hand much too tightly. Pity Scorpius had never learned it.

As if a secret sixth sense alerted her to the developments, Madam Pomfrey appeared at the foot of the bed, a pleased but stern look gracing her features.

"Awake at last I see, Professor Weasley," she said warmly, moving to Rose's side to pour her a glass of water, before turning a considerably frostier glare towards Scorpius, "Mr. Malfoy, how long have you been here?"

He wasn't sure why Rose always got called Professor, yet he was always demoted to Mr. Surely they both put each other in the Hospital Wing an equal amount - he saw no reason for Pomfrey to treat him so coldly every time they met.

(Maybe it was because he was still refusing treatment. In fact that was almost certainly it)

"Not too long," he said with a smile, smoothing down his hair in a way he hoped seemed natural and not frenzied. Madam Pomfrey let out a low sound that he was pretty sure meant she didn't believe him and went about checking over Rose. Scorpius watched silently as the woman worked. He discreetly let go of Rose's hand and leant back away from her bed and secluded into his uncomfortable chair once more.

After concluding that Rose was fine - all things considered - Pomfrey arranged for food to be brought up for her as well as some additional pick-me-up potions.

"I could always request the school Potion Master go and busy himself with brewing some fresh," Pomfrey offered Rose a very indiscrete way of removing Scorpius from her bedside. Weasley faltered, flickered her eyes to him as she considered the offer. He didn't want to leave yet; she'd only just woken up. He wanted to stay and talk and laugh and just be in the room with her while she was conscious for a few minutes. Or a few hours.

But he wouldn't stay if she didn't want him here.

(His veela howled at the prospect)

Rose swallowed slowly and gently shook her head, "No, ready-made pick-me-ups will be fine."

Her response seemed to annoy Pomfrey no end. The woman would abide by her patient's wishes however, and excused herself to start making arrangements. Which left Scorpius and Rose conscious and alone together for the first time since The Lake Incident.

He had absolutely no idea what to say.

Thankfully, Rose broke the silence after she swept her eyes over the space he was occupying

"Did you…" she looked at him like she couldn't quite understand what she was about to say, "Did you come to check in on me?"

Scorpius made a show of scoffing the ridiculous notion.

"What?! _Me_? Checking in? On _you_? No. No, no, no," he shook his head and crossed his arms as he reclined in his (frightfully uncomfortable) seat, "I was just, you know, in the neighbourhood. Thought I'd just stick my head in for a second."

Rose raised an eyebrow at him, then pointedly looked at the two empty cups of tea sitting on the table next to him, the stack of papers he'd brought with him to mark, the books piled up next to his chair, and his pair of shoes sitting at the base of his chair, his sock covered toes wriggling self consciously beside them. Her gaze came back to his and Scorpius gulped, knowing he was caught.

"Yeah, it really looks like you just happened to drop in for a minute," her voice was full of sarcasm, but it was refreshingly light. She gave him a small smile, which made something in his chest (quite possibly his brittle little heart) flutter, "Wanna try that again?"

He smiled bashfully and let out a soft laugh. Rose Weasley was teasing him. What a beautiful day to not be dead in a lake.

"Would you believe me if I said that," he stammered, the gravity of the situation still sending shockwaves through his system, "I just needed to make sure you were still…well…I just wanted to see for myself that you were ok."

She didn't punish him with a snide comment or cutting remark, a fact he was eternally thankful for. Instead, Rose gave him a genuine, if a little guarded, smile. That thing in his chest fluttered again.

"If I did believe that," she started, her voice light, "I'd tease you relentlessly for it. Just like you did when I was worried you'd given me Dragon Pox."

"In my defence," he started, unfolding into a more relaxed position as he draped his arms over the arm rests on his chair, "you had no proof I had Dragon Pox; I, on the other hand, witnessed you get knocked out."

"I had plenty of proof!" she defended passionately, but not angrily. His girl was coming back. She was alive. Merlin Almighty Rose Weasley was filled with life again, "You jumped out my window."

He sighed dramatically, "Are you ever going to let me live that down?"

"Are you ever going to tell me why you did it?" She fired back. He picked at his fingernails and gave a shrug that would have been far more elegant had his shoulders not been stiff as boards from his days spent crammed in this too-small seat.

"There's just something about your presence that makes me want to plummet to my doom."

" _That's not funny Malfoy!_ " She ground out through gritted teeth. It was almost a smile. His chest bloomed.

"What happened to Scorpius?" The question escaped him before he thought better of it. She seemed thrown by the comment, giving him a quizzical look that was somewhere between being caught red-handed and waking up hungover as fuck.

"…What?" Rose questioned inelegantly, her voice cracking from lack of use.

"You started calling me Scorpius," he said it as if it were simple in the very naive hope that it would make it so.

"Did I?" She shifted in her bed, self-consciously picking at the edge of her blanket and very pointedly avoiding eye contact with him, "I didn't notice."

"I don't mind it…" he said it too quickly, so added in a sigh and casual wave of his arm to appear less jumpy, "it's kind of nice, actually, I guess."

Had he been paying attention, Scorpius would have witnessed her blush.

"Well don't get used to it," Rose said, vainly trying to coerce the living organism that was her hair into cooperating with her wishes by neatly tucking itself behind her ear, "I'm only going to call you Scorpius when you're _not_ pissing me off."

Scorpius let out another dramatic sigh. He couldn't stop himself smiling, "You can't set me a challenge like that, Rose - you're basically forcing me to be kind to you."

"If I knew it was that easy to stop being a dick I would have started calling you Scorpius years ago," Rose said, arms crossed and mouth set in a pout. He could see it curling into a grin at the edges.

"Come now Rose," he levelled her with a pointed brow and a well-practiced smirk, "we both know you'd be horrendously bored with me if I was pleasant and _nice_ all the time."

"Being bored of you would be better than the very thought of you giving me a migraine."

"Is it, though?" She rolled her eyes at him, "Who else is going to keep you on your toes if I don't keep engaging you in battle. You'd go soft without me."

Rose scoffed at him, "Oh, so over a decade of fighting each other has been for my benefit has it?"

"Entirely. I've done you a great service," he picked nonexistent fluff off his badly wrinkled robes, "No need to thank me."

"I wasn't planning to," she drawled. It made him smile.

"Actually, I've changed my mind - you definitely need to thank me."

"I saved your life, I think that's thanks enough."

She said it with a smile, obviously intending for it to be light-hearted, but it made everything in him freeze. She saved his life. Rose Weasley saved his life. And then she almost died.

Breath coming short.

Head spinning.

Blood pumping.

Heart stammering.

He's panicking. He wants to scream and to crawl in to a ball and to sleep and to cry but most of all he just wants to jump into bed with Rose Weasley and wrap her in his arms and make her promise to never _ever_ get hurt again. And his veela is clawing at his mind, begging to be let forward to keep her safe. And suddenly there's blackness and the forest and screeching and flames and yellow glowing eyes and have to run have to get out get out get out _get out._

"Hey, Malfoy, you awake in there?"

And just like that, Scorpius was back in the room, the sound of Rose's voice bringing him back to the present and pulling him out of his wildly spiralling thoughts. She looked concerned and he tried to give a convincing smile in response.

"Right here, Weasley," he said, voice sounding strained and he prayed she couldn't see that he was sweating.

"You sure?" She asks softly, very clearly not believing his rather bad impression of someone who has their shit together.

"Mmhhmm," he hums with a tight nod. She lifts an eyebrow at him, concern still painted on her features.

"Think you could stop cutting off the circulation in my hand then?" There's a soft smile to her words as she pointedly looked at where he had a vice-like grip on her hand on the bed. Her fingers were bright red, almost purple, and his knuckles were white and pulsing with strain.

 _Hurting mate -_ the voice in his head is panicked and ashamed.

He let go of her hand like it had burned him and bit down his instinct to fuss over her. She flexed her fingers a few times but otherwise seemed fine. The shame he felt was indescribable.

"You sure you're ok?" Rose asked wth genuine concern. He felt something in his chest flutter. Man he really needed to see someone about his heart. Something was clearly wrong, soul mate or not. There's no way it was normal to feel like this. Maybe he had some sort of new plague.

"I'm sure."

He wasn't.

She didn't look convinced, but did him the great service of not pushing the matter further. He was eternally grateful.

Pomfrey suddenly swept into the room with potions and food for Rose. If he was being honest, Scorpius was thankful for the reprieve. He tuned out to Pomfrey's muttering and fussing, instead shuffling his books and papers into neater piles to shield the titles of the texts. He didn't need Rose - or Pomfrey for that matter - asking why he was reading old family journals. It also meant he could take a few moments to steady his shaking hands and discretely wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"Food is only for patients," he heard Pomfrey say pointedly, "Mr. Malfoy has made it very clear he does not require medical attention, so he will not be eating this evening."

"But you—" Rose caught herself before continuing, face drawn in a look of confusion. He wished he could communicate with her telepathically so he could beg her to _not say anything_. He didn't need more reason for Pomfrey to stab him with things and force him into a hospital bed. He was fine - at least, fine _ish_. And that's as much as he could hope for right now.

It might have been the look of total fear in his eyes that did it, or perhaps she just figured he was being a stubborn ass and wanted to side with the matronly Mediwitch; either way, Rose didn't say anything else and simply accepted the soup and bread roll Pomfrey handed her and said nothing else.

"Of course if you've changed your mind, Mr. Malfoy…" Pomfrey let the statement hang in the air, her gaze boring into him like a hawk. Scorpius smiled brightly and did an overly-enthusiastic elegant sweep of his arms over his person.

"As you can see, Madam, I am quite well."

He heard her mutter under her breath something about shock and idiocy, but she said nothing more to him as she waddled out of the room. There was a tense silence for a few moments while Rose drank her potions slowly, eyes unfocused as they stared at her bedspread. She was deep in thought; he was wont to disturb her, for old time's sake, but he thought he owed it to her to take a few moments to think over the events of Thursday evening. He'd had two and a half days to come to terms with it all, it seemed only fair to offer her the same.

After some time, Rose finally spoke.

"Scorpius," her voice was tiny in the too-empty room and he felt his gut tighten in anticipation of her question, "what happened out there?"

He didn't know how to answer her. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. He only had two half truths to choose from - either he tell her that he didn't remember and had no idea, or that he didn't remember but thought he might have transformed into a beast from medieval magic. He chose the option that held the highest appeal.

"I don't remember," Scorpius said with a shrug, "I blacked out and woke up at the boat house."

"You blacked out?" Rose sounded perplexed, staring off into space as she searched through her fragmented memories.

"Yes," he hoped his voice sounded more convincing to her ears because all he could hear was the tone of a liar, "Don't remember a thing. If anything I should be asking _you_ what happened."

"But you couldn't have," she was talking to herself as much as she was talking to him, "I saw you. You…you fought the Chimaera."

He swallowed heavily and tried to bite down the panic swirling in his stomach. That couldn't be true. Even if he transformed, there was no way he'd be able to defeat a Chimaera. He coughed out a nervous laugh.

"Fought a Chimaera? _Me?_ " he gave an exaggerated 'pfft', "Come on Rose; I'm not one for modesty but even I have to admit that's a bit of a stretch."

She didn't laugh or smile. In fact, her frown just deepened. She whipped her head around to look him in the eye.

"You did," she said firmly, "I saw you. You were protecting me."

His stomach dropped and he felt like he might faint.

 _We did. We protected mate. Couldn't let her be hurt. Had to save her._

Fuck.

He swallowed heavily, "You fractured your skull; there's a strong chance you were hallucinating."

"I know what I saw," she said it defiantly, that determination in her eyes, "There was…there was fire, and you were standing between me and the Chimaera, and…and there was something else."

"What else?" His voice sounded hollow.

"Something else in the forest; I couldn't see it properly but I could hear it. I've never heard anything like it," Rose looked to Scorpius, suddenly unsure, "You really didn't hear anything?"

Something in him wanted to tell her he had just to reassure her. But he hadn't heard anything; he really was unconscious. At least the human part of him was. The fact that it was probably him making the noise didn't change that. And he really didn't think Rose was ready to hear about his feathery problems, and he sure as hell wasn't ready to tell her.

"Rose, honestly, I was unconscious," he felt an insane need to apologise, "The last thing I remember was the Chimaera looking like it was going to attack you. I was rather sure you were dead."

And now the blackness is swallowing him up again and his breath starts coming out in harsh bursts.

"Can we stop talking about this please?" He said, shifting in his chair and loosening his collar, "Thinking about you almost dying over and over again is making me feel nauseous."

"Nauseous? I didn't even think you'd miss me," she said it with a light-hearted edge, but it struck Scorpius that there was very probably some truth to the statement. They'd been awful to each other. So awful that she actually thought her death would be inconsequential to him.

And even then, she still saved his life.

Scorpius was contemplating reaching forward and take her hand but then realised he already had.

"You're a colossal pain in my ass, Rose," he smiled softly and was thrilled to notice she wasn't turning away or pulling her hand out of his grip, "But my life would be considerably less entertaining without you in it. And I definitely don't want you dead." He paused for a breath before adding, "I'd miss you."

They were both silent for a few moments, Rose very clearly trying to process the absurd declaration that had just come out of his mouth.

"Sure you didn't cop a knock to the head too?" She eventually asked with an awkward laugh, but didn't let go of his hand, "You sound almost human."

Oh the irony.

He smiled. He'd be devastated if she wasn't a little suspicious; it'd suggest that she was still concussed or seriously brain damaged.

"Well it's called The Human Condition for a reason - because it's a fucking disease."

She openly laughed at that, loud and vibrant. There was a fluttering noise at the base of his skull - feathers being puffed in pride.

"Don't do this to me Malfoy."

"Do what?"

"Become funny. It'll make it harder to hate you."

"I've always been funny, you just never got my jokes," he said with a fake sense of indignation before adding in a more serious tone, "Besides, I thought surviving a few near-death experiences might mean we decided not to hate each other anymore."

She seemed suspicious, slowly retracting her hand. He told himself he didn't miss it. "Are you proposing a truce?"

"Of sorts," he supplied with a smile and a shrug.

Rose crossed her arms and levelled him with a judgemental glare, "Would this truce mean you'll stop handing out unfair detentions to Gryffindor students just to prevent them from playing in important Quidditch matches?"

"Still hung up on the Wolfenberg kid, hey?"

"I'm very weary you're likely to pull the same trick again."

Scorpius considered telling her how things had transpired with Eli on Friday; how he'd agreed to let him play without bargaining with Rose and how he found he really didn't mind the kid all that much, even if he was a stubborn-minded Gryffindor. But he didn't want to hear her follow up questions about why he'd done it, because he's not sure that was a question he could answer without dealing with a barrage of other follow ups that would no doubt force him to discuss things he didn't want to. So instead, he decided he'd just pretend that hadn't happened and hoped she wouldn't find out.

"If I agree not to hand out _arguably_ undeserved Gryffindor detentions before Quidditch matches, will you agree to be more…amicable towards me?"

"Define amicable," she still sounded suspicious. It filled him with an odd sense of pride.

"No more portkeys into my classroom."

"Hey my portkeys saved both our lives!" She defended herself like he'd just threaten to confiscate her favourite toy.

"I'm very aware. But I'd like my classes to be uninterrupted. If you find something to yell at me about-"

" _When_ I find something to yell at you about," she corrected him quickly. He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes.

" _When_ you find something to yell at me about, you can wait until a break in classes to do it just like everyone else."

She looked honestly shocked for a moment, "Who else yells at you?"

There was something in her tone, a twinge in the way she asked the question, like she was hiding something. There was a bristling in his ears, and he felt his veela beam with pride. They knew that sliver of emotion creeping out; they've seen it in themselves many times.

Well, well, well, colour him surprised.

"Careful Rose," Scorpius said with a sly smile as he dropped his voice to a lower tone and leant in closer, "If I didn't know any better I'd say you sounded… _jealous_."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, but he noticed the way her cheeks glowed.

"I'm not 'jealous'," she says, indicating the insanity of the statement by adding overtly sarcastic quotation marks with her fingers, "I just always thought that yelling at each other was like, I don't know, our thing. It's weird to think of someone else yelling at you like I do."

He thanked his lucky stars (of which he probably only had one that was dying somewhere in a galaxy far, far away) that his hair didn't glow when he was proud. Because he'd be beaming brighter than the goddam sun right now. Rose Weasley was jealous. Maybe he had a shot after all.

"No one yells at me like you do Rose," he said reassuringly, though he was still smirking, "And I wasn't aware we had 'a thing'."

"Oh please," she levelled him with a look that indicated she thought he was being deliberately obtuse, "We have plenty of things."

He reclined in his chair, "Enlighten me."

Rose sat up straighter and started listing things in a very matter-of-fact kind of a way. It was almost like she was answering questions in a test. He didn't know why he found it vaguely erotic. Probably just because he was losing his goddam marbles.

"Well, yelling at each other - that's a big one," she listed them on her fingers, "The creative ways we insult each other, like how I say I envy everyone whose had the good fortune of never meeting you," an actual insult she'd used before, "and you tell me I'm the human incarnation of a kick to the balls."

He'd been particularly proud of that one. He smiled at the memory.

"Fighting at Christmas Dinner," she said, raising another finger, "that's one of our things."

"We did that once and have been forced to sit at opposite ends of every dining table since," he argued with a smile.

"Yeah but it's a milestone in our rivalry," she countered and he could see she was steadying herself for a fight. He wasn't going to fight her though, not on this.

"I think the fact that you call it 'a rivalry' indicates we've got a bit of a way to go."

Rose seemed genuinely stumped, "What would you call it instead?"

"If we agree to this truce?" Scorpius thought about it a moment, running a hand through his hair as he thought it over, "I'd call it a…friendship."

The term sounded foreign to his own ears. Him and Rose - _friends_.

Merlin it could be brilliant.

Or a fucking disaster.

She blinked at him several times, "Shit maybe I have been hallucinating. I thought you just said you wanted to be my _friend_."

"I'm serious," he leant forward in a way he hoped was 'casually engaging' and not 'predatorily preparing to pounce', "I think it's time we moved past out differences and got along."

She blinked at him once. Twice. Three, four, five times. Then she shook her head and looked determined.

"That's it - I'm calling for Pomfrey. You've definitely got something wrong with your brain."

"Calm down Rose," he said she she shuffled around looking for the matron. Scorpius was worried the woman would suddenly materialise from the shadows just at the utter of her name.

"First you're jumping out windows," she said with worry tainting her tone, "then you get a mystery illness, then you fight a Chimaera, now you wanna be friends? Are you sure you're not dying?."

His face was a blank slate when he replied, his tone somewhere between bored and insulted.

"It's true. You've figured me out; I'm on death's door and I'm trying desperately to repent for all my sins before I die. Are you really going to deny a dying man his last wish?"

Rose crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"Part of the truce should be neither of us gets to joke about dying," she muttered, not anticipating his total agreement.

"To that I can wholeheartedly agree."

There's several long moments of silence during which Scorpius pretended to pick lint off his sleeve and Rose fiddled with a fraying corner of her blanket. For two very intelligent people they sure were fucking useless at communicating like rational adults.

Rose was the one who eventually broke the silence, her voice small and hesitant.

"Do you honestly want to be friends with me? Because I've been unconscious for two days and very nearly died and now is not the time to be an asshole to me," She eyed him like she was expecting him to attack her. It hurt something in his chest to realise it's because a previous version of himself probably would have. Scorpius did his best to look as sincere as he possibly could without revealing that there was a thing in his brain that was probably love with her. He let himself smile gently.

"Yes."

She didn't hesitate to fire back, "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" He spat the statement, his exhaustion bleeding into frustration.

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Her voice took on an aggravated tone of it's own; their little window of civility was quickly closing, "This has come out of nowhere."

He let out a pained groan, "No, it's come out of a near-death experience or three. People are wont to change their minds after such things."

"Exactly! This is just you reacting in panic," if anything, Rose sounded like she was the one in a panic," I bet you'll wake up tomorrow and be back to your old self. You're just…you're just in shock!"

"Why does everyone keep saying that?!" Scorpius exclaimed mostly to himself, head darting wildly around the room to see if Madam Pomfrey was manipulating Rose from the shadows somewhere, maybe flashing her cue cards of what to say to get him to agree to a medical assessment.

"Because you've been through a very traumatic experience and shock is completely normal given the circumstances!" Rose reasoned, her voice raised and eyebrows drawn together.

"You're not in shock!"

She looked at him like he was a particularly daft child, her voice returning to a normal decibel level.

"Scorpius, I've been unconscious for three days."

"Yes you don't have to remind me - I've been here waiting for you to wake up!"

Rose fell silent and he knew he'd said too much. Although it was obvious he'd been here longer than the few moments he'd claimed to check in on her, it had perhaps not been evident that he hadn't shifted from her bedside since the end of his classes on Friday afternoon. Scorpius wasn't sure he was comfortable with her knowing that. They sat in silence for several long moments, each of them flustered and embarrassed in equal measure.

"We argue constantly," Rose finally said, her voice reasoned and a touch sad, "Why on earth would you want to be friends with me?"

Scorpius couldn't look her in the eye when he responded.

"Maybe it's because I saw you almost die, Rose, and when you come so very close to losing someone you realise what a mistake you've made in being awful to them for your entire existence," he flicked his eyes up at her, "I meant it when I said I'd miss you. I just didn't realise how much until it seemed it was too late. I don't want to regret not knowing you."

She cracked a smile, "How can you be sure you won't regret knowing me?"

He mirrored her gentle grin, "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

The silence wrapped itself around them both like a very heavy, almost suffocating blanket. It was comfortable but not at all healthy. They were so close to moving forward, so close to progressing past this stalemate they'd found themselves in for years. Scorpius had been the one to push them right up to this line - Rose had to be the one to cross it.

"Ok," she said finally, voice quiet but sure, "Let's be…friends."

The quickening of his heartbeat and brief faltering of his pulse told him he was more excited about the prospect than he wanted to let himself be. He hoped he wasn't blushing. Or glowing.

To help ease the tension between them - and distract himself from the flurry of emotions stirring within him at Rose's support of their friendship - Scorpius smirked at her as he reclined lazily.

"It'll probably help if you can say that without looking like you want to vomit," he commented. Rose had the decency to look a bit embarrassed and sorry about the look of she was unable to hide.

"I'm a work in progress, ok? It's going to take me a while to become accustomed to this."

He did his absolutely best to sound sincere, but suspected he just sounded smug, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Stop being an ass," she fired back at him.

"Sounds too difficult," he dismissed it with a wave of him hand, "Anything else?"

She thought for a moment - torn between a scathing remark and an honest response.

"Make me laugh more," she eventually went with honesty, "I like people who make me laugh."

"Will do - just let me grab you a mirror."

" _Scorpius!"_

He laughed and held his arms up in surrender when she looked to throw a pillow at him, "I'm joking!"

"That wasn't funny," the pillow was still raised. He should probably stop himself from grinning like an idiot. Scorpius had, it would appear, absolutely no sense or self control.

"It was a little bit funny," he said instead, grin spreading wider.

"You have a warped sense of humour," she eventually muttered, lowering her pillow but still scowling at him.

"How many years has it taken you to figure that out? Come on Rose, you're meant to be smart."

"And you're meant to be convincing me we should be friends," she scowled at him over her glass of water while she drank.

"Am I not?"

"No," she shot back, placing her water on the side table, "Not even close."

"I'm new to this friends business, Rose, you'll have to show me how it's done."

"Step one," she pointed at him, "Don't be an asshole."

"But that's my default setting," Scorpius did not whine because he was a grown ass man. But he did whatever the equivalent to a whine was that was acceptable y someone over the age of five.

"I am _very_ aware," Rose sounded exasperated. He was probably making her reconsider her decision to agree to his proposal.

"Besides I wasn't even being an asshole," he deflected, "I was being funny."

"Step two - no jokes at other peoples' expenses."

He groaned and sunk low in his chair in defeat, "Merlin I'll never laugh again!"

"Welcome to friendship Malfoy - it takes work."

"Come on Rose, level with me here," he waited until she met his gaze before he spoke, and did his best not to get distracted by how pretty her eyes looked, "You wouldn't like me if I was nice."

She met his smirk with one of her own. "Bold of you to assume I'd ever like you."

"Well now whose not being friendly?"

"You started it!"

He took note of his body language, arms crossed, jaw set, and eyes glaring. And then there was Rose - closed off, defensive, hesitant. Merlin this wasn't going as he'd planned.

Who was he kidding - he didn't have a plan.

"We're really quite awful at this aren't we?" He asked her with a twinge of embarrassment. She smiled at him and he watched as the tension eased from her muscles. She gave a soft shrug.

"Everything's tricky the first time you try it."

Well would you look at that, one little line and Scorpius found he couldn't breathe. It was such a simple declaration, but so undeniably honest, that it threw him off balance in their little argument. Without warning, Scorpius had one little rampant thought run through his mind before could think better of it.

If Rose Weasley kept this up he would almost certainly fall in love with her. And not just because of this stupid bird.

"Ok," he clapped his hands and sat up straighter, presenting the image of an attentive student, "How does one _not_ be an asshole?"

"Think before you speak," Rose explained. Like it was that simple.

"I do," he countered, "My insults take finesse and wit."

" _Scorpius,"_ she drew out his name in an exasperated groan and he really wished she hadn't. In her defence, she probably didn't know the effect it would've on his heart rate, or the incredibly unrealistic mental images it would conjure within him. Still, he didn't appreciate it.

"Ok, ok," he raised his hands in surrender again, "Think before I speak, and if I think of something very funny but potentially 'mean', I should…"

He made a show of pretending to deliberate over the correct answer while Rose watched him with an expectant eyebrow raised.

" _Not_ say it?"

"Correct," she said with a satisfied nod. Rose knew he was humouring her, but she appreciated it nonetheless, "That doesn't sound so difficult, now does it?"

"Honestly it could be the most courageous thing I've ever done," he deadpanned.

"How is not being an asshole courageous?"

"Because it means completely changing who I am as a person.- right at my core, Rose!" He exclaimed, exhausted by the mere thought of all the work to be done, "It means allowing my carefully constructed reputation to be undermined and potentially ruined beyond recognition. All in the name of committing to a friendship with you."

"Are you saying my friendship isn't worth it?" Scorpius was not stupid enough to walk into that trap she carelessly set for him.

"Well that remains to be seen I guess," he said it haughtily but with a good-natured grin that he hoped prevented her from wanting to slap him, "you're going to have to be a pretty good friend to make this an even deal."

"I am an _excellent_ friend, thank you," Rose proudly listed her evidence to back up the claim, "I remember birthdays, I bake cakes, I buy wonderful Christmas gifts, parents _love_ me-"

"You want to meet my parents already?" He pasted a sly smile on his face and sat up straighter, "Rose Weasley, are you flirting with me?"

One of the loveliest sights to behold was watching as Rose bloom brighter than her namesake.

"No! You know I'm not!" She pointed an accusatory finger at him, "You're supposed to not be an asshole!"

As tempted as he was to continue teasing her - it was, after all, a favourite pastime of his - Scorpius was feeling very suddenly and completely overwhelmingly tired. All the sleep he hadn't managed to get for the past several nights hit him like a train and all at once he found it incredibly difficult to keep himself upright. He smiled as he slumped down in his chair, his eyelids feeling as if gravity was personally trying to pull them down.

"Ok, ok, maybe you're not flirting, but now I expect cake on my birthday," he heard how sleepy he sounded, "It's in…In January."

"Yeah, January 24th, I know," he wanted to ask her _how_ she knew, but she continued before he had the chance to, "Scorpius are you ok? Should I call for Pomfrey?"

"No!" He said it too quickly and too urgently for her to dismiss it, if anything she was more concerned, "It's just been a very long week, Weasley. I'm just tired. I haven't slept properly in about five days."

" _Five days_?!"

Judging by her reaction, Scorpius guessed that his explanation had not been the casual remark he had aimed for. Whoops. He just needed to put her fears to rest and assure her everything was fine.

"I've been having nightmares," he confessed before he could stop himself. Like a twat. Because if there was something that made him sound like he was very much not ok, it was confessing to nightmares.

"Even before Thursday night?" Rose's voice was small, like she knew he didn't want Pomfrey overhearing his woes. He was incredibly thankful for her discretion.

"Yes, but now I've got even more literal nightmare fuel I'm sure they'll just improve."

He'd meant it as a joke, but he didn't think she took it as such.

"You should probably go back to your quarters and get a proper rest," she offered, sounding genuinely concerned. He opened one eye and cocked an eyebrow at her with a smile.

"Kicking me out, Rose?"

"No," she played with the edge of the blanket again, "I just think you really need proper sleep."

"This place is nice and peaceful," he shuffled into the chair in a very lame attempt to try and find some kind of comfortable position in this weapon of torture, "Besides, my room is tainted now - all I can think about when I'm there is that I might be attacked at any moment by a mad woman with red hair."

"Ha. Ha." Rose deadpanned, arms crossed.

"It's no laughing matter - you've traumatised me."

"So rather than try to relax in the comfort of your own room with just the memory of me being there, you're going to sit right across from me instead?" Well when she said it like that it sounded ridiculous. The alternative was to tell her the truth - that being near her physically calmed the beast in his head that had been keeping him awake all week, that being able to smell the very faint scent the was 'Rose' made his muscles relax and his blood stop rushing.

So, obviously, there was no fucking way he was doing that.

"Of course; how will I annoy you from my quarters when you're locked here? That's just no fun at all," he smiled and the world started to go dark, "No, no, I'll just stay here. I'll sleep later."

"Scorpius, your eyes are closed."

"No they're not. I'm just…resting my eyelids. It'll just be for a minute."

Scorpius' eyes were, in fact, closed. Which was quite unfortunate, for if they hadn't been he might have seen how Rose smiled softly at him, and how she reached out towards him, only to pull her hand back and rest it on her lap.

"You're allowed to sleep," she whispered reassuringly, "I won't kick you out."

"Can't sleep," he murmured, clearly on the cusp of losing consciousness, "If I'm left defenceless around Pomfrey she'll start poking me with things."

Rose smiled at his sleepy disposition, watching as he slumped down into his seat further. "I'll do my best to fend her off."

"I'd be extremely grateful if you'd do that," his head fell to the side, and the feathered beast at the base of his skull curled around his spine and took rest, "I just need to rest…for one…minute…"

Rose picked up her wand off the bedside table and flicked it at one of the additional blankets at the end of her bed, levitating it over towards Scorpius and watched as it draped over him. He nestled into it a bit further before his breathing slowed and slumber took him under. She studied his face and the blank expression he wore.

 _Friends,_ she thought to herself, _How the hell was she going to be friends with Scorpius Malfoy?_

It wasn't going to be easy - they had far too much history for it to be a simple transition - but today's conversation was largely pleasant. Maybe it was time that they moved past all their grievances and buried the figurative hatchet. Because when she lost him as he disappeared into the black water of the lake she hadn't felt like she was losing an enemy. It didn't really feel like she was losing a friend either. It just felt like she was losing A Scorpius. And the thought had her terrified in a way she still couldn't understand.

He'd confessed he'd miss her if she was gone. She supposed it was evident she'd miss him too.

* * *

 _The beast bared it's teeth and let out a low rumble. It sunk to the ground; ready to pounce. Rose tried to breathe but her lungs weren't working. Her head was pounding. She couldn't think straight._

 _A distant scream. It wasn't hers._

 _Scorpius, she thought, the last person to see me alive is going to be Scorpius Malfoy._

 _Holy hell, she was going to miss him._

 _A sound. Something in pain. Not a scream. Not a growl. A screech. High-pitched. Ringing. Like a blizzard in a tunnel. Ringing. Ringing. Screeching. Screeching. Not human. Not the Chimera. Something else. Something she'd never heard before. Something else was here._

 _Don't let it get the children. Please let him get them out safely._

 _Then he was there - between her and the Chimaera. Her nemesis, defending her. Tall and imposing. Arms thrown out to his sides. Protecting her. She knew it was him. Even with her vision swimming. Even though everything was just odd, disfigured shapes, she knew it was him._

 _Then the flames came._

 _So many flames._

 _It was all she could see. Heat on her face. Something burning. Something roaring. Screeching again. What was making that sound? How was he making the flames? He wasn't holding his wand. She hadn't heard him speak. There was just that repetitive screeching. And his hands. And the flames._

 _They needed to get out. Now._

 _She reached forward to grab his ankle to take him with her, finding the portkey in her pocket. She looked up. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. It must have been the flames. Or the knock to the head. Or the adrenaline. Or his cloak._

 _But if anyone had asked her what she had seen, Rose would have sworn on her life that Scorpius Malfoy had wings._

 _Then her hand wrapped around the portkey and there were no more flames. No more screeching._

 _Just falling._

 _And water._

 _And darkness._

Rose woke with a start, drenched in sweat and panicked from her nightmare. She looked around and found herself still in the familiar surroundings of the Hospital Wing, the candles extinguished and the moonlight shining through the windows. Her heart was pounding like she'd just run a marathon. Her breath was unsteady. When had she fallen asleep? How much time had past? What day was it?

Something was on her hand.

She looked over and found Scorpius Malfoy sleeping in the chair beside her bed, his hand clasping hers. He looked peaceful - a peaceful crumpled mess - but his grip was sure.

He didn't have wings. And it would be utterly ridiculous if he did. Someone couldn't just sprout wings whenever they pleased. But her eyes must not have adjusted properly yet, because in the darkness of the Hospital Wing, with everything bathed in moonlight, Scorpius almost looked like he was glowing.

There was a voice in her head - one that was totally convinced of what she's seen that night despite the ridiculousness of the claim - that murmured mistruths to her. It said he looked odd without wings, and that it wasn't her eyes, that he was definitely glowing, just like he should be.

But that was madness. People didn't just sprout wings or start glowing. She was clearly still concussed. It was the only logical explanation. Rose squeezed his hand and closed her eyes. She just needed more sleep. That was all.

* * *

Phillipa Grubbly-Plank looked around the singed patch of the forest with a critical eye. Something here just wasn't right.

Besides the fact that the Chimaera had been able to get out of it's containment (she'd be having _words_ with the manufacturers who assured her it was 'safer than Gringotts'), things here just didn't add up. The ground was burnt in odd patches, reflective of the state she'd found it in when she came out after the incident. It couldn't have been a steady stream of fire - it was burnt in clusters. Most unusual. She doesn't know what spell Malfoy used, and with his insistence that he " _doesn't remember"_ , it's unlikely she'll ever know for sure.

Weasley had been babbling about a second creature, sure that she'd heard some kind of screeching but hadn't gotten a look at the supposed second beast. Phillipa couldn't think of another animal in the forest that she knew about that fit the description, especially not one that could breathe fire and take on a Chimaera. There weren't any unidentified dragons getting around as far as she was aware, and surely if there had been there would be more to look for - footprints, nests, unsettled animals, half-eaten carcasses. But there wasn't anything of the sort.

Something glistened on the ground. Something silvery and shimmering. For a moment she thought it was a pile of sickles, or maybe a Niffler had left some shiny things in it's wake. But as she drew closer, they became clearer and even more baffling.

Feathers. Bright silvery-white, shimmering in the limited light, lifting slightly with the breeze. She bent to pick them up, it was completely unlike any that she'd seen before. Almost rubbery in texture, smooth and sleek; undeniably beautiful. And tough. There was no beast she knew of with feathers like them.

As she picked them up and considered them more closely, Phillipa Grubbly-Plank couldn't help but get the feeling that someone was lying to her. And she was determined to find out why.

* * *

 _A/n: until next time lovelies._

 _Shine on xo_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I am so sincerely sorry about the delay. This year has been goddam crazy, and I never intended to go this long between uploads. I hope you can all forgive me and enjoy this update. I love you all._

 _I was going to write a Christmas fic, then I was going to write a New Years fic. Then I decided to just pull my head out of my ass and continue writing this chapter. I'm really glad I did. I have every intention to finish this fic, it just might take me some time._

 _Trigger Warning: there is a minor reference to an underage student making flirting with an older teacher. This is not me trying to introduce an underage kink - this is based on interactions my male friends who are high school teachers mentioned happening when you're a young somewhat attractive teacher surrounded by pubescent teenagers._

 _Disclaimer: as before, the character names you recognise are not mine._

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - Flying the Coop**

When he dragged himself to breakfast on Wednesday, Scorpius looked like shit and he knew it. Sleep, the cruel mistress, had been evading him. Any time he felt himself drifting off ,one of two things would happen:

\- his bird brain would awaken and demand to be close to Rose, urge him to run to her side in the Hospital Wing and hold her close, restless due to their separation;

\- or he'd have flashes of her grey and shaking, dying in his arms next to the lake, the only sound the screech of his own scream as she faded right in front of him.

The latter was by far worse.

Despite Rose having woken up and appearing mostly fine, his nightmares had not abated. He'd wake in a cold sweat, shaking and terrified, his fear and despair so tangible that it took him several moments to push it from his mind. He'd wake out of breath, his throat raw from screaming, his muscles spasming from being tensed during his fitful slumber. There'd be an itching at his spine - his wings eager to break free to better protect himself and Rose, and his hands would be hot to the touch, the flames from within aching to be unleashed. Which was incredibly terrifying. He'd never consciously conjured flames, and he had absolutely no intention of waking up on fire. He wasn't sure if his skin was now fire retardant, but he knew damn well his silk sheets weren't. And he simply could not deal with having to replace his pristine bedding on top of everything else going batshit insane in his life currently.

Scorpius found that even upon waking he'd struggle to remove the images from his mind, and would often end up dragging himself out of bed at 2:00am to read more about Veela lore and have a cup of tea to calm himself down (and feel decidedly less fiery). Which was proving frustratingly futile - the texts didn't seem to give any further insight into what was going with his body and there was absolutely nothing so far about breaking the bond. There wasn't even tales of anyone trying to break it - at least none that had been documented. Rose and he may have come to an unsteady truce, but being amorous with Rose was still very much the backup plan - he didn't want to be tied to anyone for the rest of his life without having a say in the matter, Weasley or not. The fact that he had held her hand all through the night in the Hospital Wing absolutely didn't change that.

With sleep proving torturous, Scorpius had been avoiding it as much as possible. He had thought that if he could just go in and see Rose again then maybe his nightmares would subside. But Rose, being the generally well-liked and popular person she was with both staff and students, had a constant flow of visitors. Whenever he took a quick detour towards the Hospital Wing, there was a line of students all being told off by Pomfrey for making too much noise as they smuggled in food for their favourite professor, or other professors asking after her health and keeping her updated on the work gossip (of which there was always plenty, some of it undoubtedly about him he'd guess). Scorpius was fairly sure even the ghosts were stopping by. Mighty inconsiderate of them, seeing as he wanted a minute or 20 of her company to himself. As happy as he was for Rose to consider him a friend, Scorpius did not need a flurry of witnesses around when he was around her. He couldn't trust his hair or his skin to cooperate (his hair _still_ looked like it was floating in water whenever he didn't have it restrained) and he simply didn't need to make up convincing lies to people he had no time for when he was so severely fatigued. He couldn't say for certain that he wouldn't just hex someone instead of trying to lie.

He'd already had a number of close calls this week as it was. Despite starting the week feeling refreshed and energised, Scorpius had found himself being bothered and humbugged by nearly every person that crossed his path. Phillipa had still insisted on sitting next to him at breakfast, which he couldn't even enjoy because all his food tasted funny since Bird Brain had made itself known. He had made no attempts to be pleasant with her, and had in fact stayed true to his brand and been decidedly _un_ pleasant on a number of occasions. He had begun by responding with nothing but grunts whenever she levelled one of her inane questions at him (" _how have you been, Malfoy? Feeling well? No strange urges or unnatural bowel movements?"_ ), and had even resorted to deliberately attempting to strike up conversation with another teacher just to have a good reason not to engage her. These efforts were also wasted, as the other staff members he sat next to seemed to have a compulsion to discuss Rose at every instance. Knowing their history Scorpius could not comprehend how everyone thought he'd want to discuss her. Every time they brought her up Scorpius felt his veela twitching in despair and wanting to break free. Which was precisely what he didn't need in the goddam dining hall. He'd ended up snapping at his colleagues, shovelling foul tasting food into his mouth and excusing himself early to find some solace in the cold empty depths of the dungeons.

The children didn't fair much better.

Despite building additional rapport with the students after word of his supposed heroics spread like wildfire, it did not mean his Monday morning class of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws was any more bearable. They'd filed in making an insane amount of noise, which he was willing to overlook due in some small part to feeling well-rested after sleeping at Rose's bedside the evening before.

His calm had lasted a grand total of 15 minutes.

It had started to fracture when one of the female Ravenclaw students (he thought her name might have been Veronica but he honestly couldn't be arsed putting in the effort to remember) had spent the morning asking him inane questions while she battered her eyelashes at him. He was deliberately rude to her and eventually pointedly ignored her requests for assistance. It wasn't enough that he had to watch himself around the other teaching staff, now his students had stepped up their vaguely flirtatious interactions. He felt physically unwell.

His sense of calm went from 'fractured' to 'non-existent' when he'd stepped out of the classroom for a moment to get additional supplies from the closet and returned to find the room in chaos. Veronica-or-some-similar-name was screaming at Charlie Butterworth as he made out with a broomstick while moaning obscenities.

" _Yes Professor Malfoy! Teach me how to use my tongue!"_

"I'M GOING TO NAIL YOUR TONGUE TO YOUR ASSHOLE YOU FUC- _"_

" _ENOUGH!"_

Scorpius had held his wand to his throat, causing his voice to project and echo off the stone walls. Many of the students covered their ears, some physically jumped and turned to face him. The raucous laughter had been silenced. Charlie Butterworth looked terrified, and Veronica Whats-her-face was crying. Scorpius guessed that, had he been a little less soothed by holding Rose's hand all night, he would have breathed fire at the lot of them. The lesson had ended with two detentions and 15 points taken from each house. That rapport he'd built was quickly eroding.

Tuesday had not been promising either. The class he generally enjoyed most - his Slytherin and Hufflepuff sixth years - was spent supervising students presenting what they'd found in their research about Amortentia and it's applications. He'd been thoroughly disappointed when one of the pairs he hated least - Baxter Sanderson and Thomas Leary - failed to present their conclusions. In fact, they were trying to sit as far away from each other as seemed physically possible. Scorpius suspected that they were embarrassed after smelling each other in their potions last week; they'd probably been avoiding each other like the plague since. Scorpius found himself getting unjustly frustrated with them - they smelt each other in their Amortentia, they liked each other, _just fucking do something about it_.

Obviously this is not the pep-talk he gave the boys.

Instead, he gave them both detention. Together. Because he was just that much of an asshole.

( _There was a particularly dark little part of his brain that felt jealous of the boys - did they understand what a gift it was to have such substantial proof that the object of their affections returned the sentiment? And what did they do with the information? Actively run away from each other. If Scorpius knew that Rose smelled him in her Amortentia, why he…he didn't know what he'd do differently but it would definitely help)_

Frustrating classes combined with a total lack of sleep and an inability to see Rose meant he had been just goddam awful most of the week. He'd been snappy, he'd sulked, he'd avoided human contact wherever possible. He'd been distracted during conversations with other teachers by a gnawing under his skin of his veela whining to see Rose, to hold her hand, to rest his head in her lap and beg her to accept him. He'd had to ask students to repeat themselves a number of times because the blood was beating so loudly through his veins. He'd even ran into a first year and had to physically restrain himself from baring his teeth in displeasure.

So on Wednesday morning, when he had suffered another night of such disrupted sleep he was unsure if he managed to get even 2 hours in total, and he saw the only seat available at the table was next to Phillipa, he let out an audible snarl and turned on his heel. He left the Dining Hall in a flurry of dark grey robes. Never mind food, his bitterness would fuel him for days.

With his current state in mind, it came as absolutely no surprise that Neville Longbottom came looking for Scorpius to have a 'chat'. The Headmaster happened upon Scorpius as he was not-so-subtly trying to see how many visitors Rose had whilst also avoiding Pomfrey. Which resulted in him plastering himself to the corridor wall just outside the Hospital Wing and peeking around the corner like some not-so-sneaky first year trying to steal some sweets from the kitchens. His vision was so laser-focused on what he could see of the Hospital Wing, that it took him completely by surprise when Neville Longbottom approached him from behind.

"Scorpius!"

Scorpius handled it with all the calm and humility of a world class auror.

"I-WAS-JUST-WALKING-PAST-I'M-NOT-CHECKING-IN-WE'RE-JUST-FRIENDS-TOTALLY-PLATONIC-NO- _YOU'RE_ -UNHEALTHILY-INVESTED!"

Neville blinked at him slowly three times. "What?"

"Nothing."

Solid recovery. There's no way his boss thought he was unstable in anyway. Not at all.

In other news, Scorpius has recently taken up 'wishful thinking' as a professional sport.

Neville eyed him with open concern and seemed to consider his next words quite carefully.

"Are you…" the Headmaster looked at the doors of the Hospital Wing with a raised eyebrow, "…busy?"

Scorpius wanted to say that he was just to get out of whatever frightfully painful conversation he was about to be roped into. Probably a discussion about his wellbeing. Like he had any of that left. It was now abundantly clear that Scorpius' wellbeing was inherently linked with Rose's, so in order for him to not continue acting like someone who very much needed to be sent to St. Mungos, it was imperative that Rose get better. And he was fairly sure he could assist her in getting better if he was just allowed to speak to her for a few minutes and confirm once and for all that she is not dead or dying like she has been in his dreams.

This is, of course, exactly what he doesn't say to his boss.

"No, no I was just-" it was in that moment that Scorpius realised he didn't have a good lie about what he was doing, nor did Neville specifically ask him what he wasdoing, so therefore it was not required. And the fewer lies he told the man that was responsible for his pay check, the better, "I'm not busy."

Neville nodded slightly, happy, it would appear, that one of his teachers was not in the middle of mental break. At least as far as he was aware.

( _Note: Neville Longbottom wasn't aware of shit_ )

"Given you have a bit of free time," Scorpius couldn't help but think that there was a difference between not actively being 'busy' and having free time, "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind coming to my office to have a bit of a chat."

Scorpius was immediately uncomfortable at the prospect.

Hoping to avoid a painful conversation he very much would not like to have, Scorpius shrugged and did his best at adopting a carefree smile when he was, in fact, full of cares.

"I'm sure we can have a quick chat here, I'm just heading down to the-"

"No, in private would be more suitable," Neville said it with a smile but Scorpius felt no less uneasy about the prospect. A private conversation. With the Headmaster. On two hours of disrupted sleep. When he had a bird loose in his head. And was going slightly mad because Weasley was still not herself.

There were a thousand ways this could go wrong and he had a sneaking suspicion every single one of them was imminent.

"Very well, sir," he said with a tight smile and followed dutifully to the Headmaster's Office. His veela howled with every step he took from Rose. Scorpius, for perhaps the first time, genuinely empathised with the beast.

 _I know._ He told it, _I want to hold her too._

* * *

Neville Longbottom offered him tea, but Scorpius had to decline because he didn't trust his hands not to shake every time he raised the cup to his mouth. Instead, he sat stiff as a board, his spine straighter than the chair he was currently sat in, his hands clasped in a tight knot on his lap. He could do this. This would be fine. It was Neville Bloody Longbottom for heaven's sake - the man spoke to plants and wore sweater vests every day.

( _He also played a significant role in overthrowing Voldemort and beheaded a fucking snake with Godric Gryffindor's sword. He could end you)_

Neville gave him a gentle smile that had a sympathetic edge. What was he going to say? Had something happened to Rose? Was he about to lose his job? Was it his hair?

"I'm afraid I have some unpleasant news," Neville said with a genuine sense of remorse. Merlin Almighty it wasn't going to be good, whatever was coming. Scorpius steeled his nerves and grit his teeth, planning exactly how he would escape this room if Neville tried to have him committed to St. Mungos. Free falling out the window seemed like his best shot right now.

"I've heard back from the private growers of that Southern Blue Monkshood you were after," the older man spoke and the rest of the world faded around them, "Unfortunately no one has any available. The shortage has hit everyone very hard, it would appear. They're not expecting the new crops to be ready for harvest for at least another few months."

At his silence, Neville added a very sympathetic sounding, "I'm so sorry, Scorpius - it seems you'll be without your suppressant for some time to come."

If he thought really hard about it all, Scorpius could reconcile that this was not the worst news he had ever received in his adult life.

It was pretty fucking close though.

The prospect of feeling how he currently did - always on the cusp of being entirely out of control of his own mind, uncomfortable in his own skin - was enough to force all the breath from his body in a sudden rush that left him feeling empty and hollow. Realistically, he'd always known that Neville being able to get a hold of the plant was very much an '11th hour, hail-mary' type solution. But there had been something at the back of his mind (something that wasn't his goddam bird) that thought that if anyone was able to pull off something like this, it would be Neville Longbottom. The man was a war hero, renowned Hogwarts Headmaster, and Herbology prodigy - if there was anyone who would have been able to pull the last strains of Monkshood out of his or someone else's arse, it would have been him. In the space of what was probably only moments but felt like hours, Scorpius came to a harrowing realisation -

This is it. His veela is here to stay. There is no quick fix coming soon. He had no option but to play nice with the beast for the sake of his sanity.

And playing nice meant accepting the bond.

Fuck.

Scorpius swallowed the anxiety that had wrapped itself around his windpipe like a vice and nodded at his boss.

"Thank you for your efforts, sir," he said in a voice that didn't sound entirely like his own, "I really appreciate your assistance."

Neville looked like he was about to ask an awkward question, so Scorpius cut him off before he got the chance.

"It will mean I'm a bit… _uncomfortable_ for the next few months," an understatement if ever there was, "But I'll manage."

Neville smiled at him but remained silent, and Scorpius wasn't entirely sure he'd been convincing enough. But when no further questions came, he thought he might have genuinely been in the clear. It was but a moment, however small and naive it may be, that Scorpius really thought that that was all Neville wished to speak to him about - he simply wanted to advise he had had no luck finding the stupid little weed that caused Scorpius' life to fall apart so spectacularly. Maybe he just didn't want to discuss it out in the open as it was such a sensitive topic, his undisclosed condition and all.

Scorpius had been laughably optimistic.

He really should have known better, especially considering his recent luck. Or severe lack thereof.

"I must confess, there was another reason I asked to see you," Neville said as he poured himself another cup of tea. Scorpius didn't need his new fancy senses to detect the shift in the atmosphere, "I've been meaning to speak with you about a concern raised by a student."

Scorpius sighed, "If this is about Charlie Butterworth snogging the broom stick I think I was _very_ justified in my punishment."

"W _hat?!_ "

"What?"

"What? What about the-"

"Nothing. Nothing of concern. I've got it under control."

He could see the Headmaster considering the possibility of asking further questions and then realised he didn't want to know anything more than he already did. Smart man.

"I wanted to speak to you about a concern a different student made," Neville broached the topic gently and far-too slowly for Scorpius' liking - he had a myriad of things he'd rather be doing than suffering the world's most polite interrogation, "Rhys Whittle - he's a first year Hufflepuff student, muggle-born, has found the adjustment to the presence of magic and his ability to cast it all a bit daunting."

The Headmaster seemed to be under the entirely incorrect assumption that Scorpius actually gave a shit about his students. Somedays it was like Neville just didn't understand him at all.

"Fascinating," Scorpius deadpanned, indicating he thought the situation quite the opposite. Neville, ever the optimist who liked to believe his teachers were invested in the wellbeing of their pupils, didn't pick up on the very obvious undertone of sarcasm and continued to discuss this random Rhys kid regardless.

"He's got a bit of insomnia as a result, likes stargazing when he can't sleep," Neville was stirring his tea with a quiet composure that had Scorpius a little on edge. He wanted to get out of this room as soon as possible.

"Not to be rude, Headmaster," he said, right before he was abundantly rude, "but how does this relate to me?"

Neville smiled at him in a way Scorpius couldn't decipher if he meant to be reassuring or threatening as he put down his spoon and took a sip of his tea. Like he had all the time in the world. Which the Headmaster might, but Scorpius did not. He had classes to teach, children to torture, friends to check on.

"Well Rhys had a very strange request this morning," Neville made sure he was looking Scorpius right in the eye when he continued, "he asked if we could drain the lake."

Scorpius tried not to sigh too loudly in frustration.

"Still waiting with bated breath to find out how this applies to me, sir…"

"Well, young Rhys was stargazing a few nights ago - the night of the Chimaera incident," Neville's eye contact was getting a tad intimidating. As intimidating a grown man wearing a knitted sweater could be, but his smile remained soft in an odd sort of false sense of security. It didn't stop Scorpius' hair standing on end just from the thought of the Chimaera, "And he is absolutely adamant that he saw an angel fall into the Black Lake."

Scorpius felt his stomach drop for the second time in 5 minutes and got the absolutely overwhelming urge to run. Neville was looking at him with an unsettling look in his eye. It wasn't amusement, and it wasn't really anger; but it appeared to be a weird combination of both. He was apprehensively amused but also ready to fight. Scorpius' blood started pumping faster.

"Funny isn't it?" Neville's voice was still light but there was a knowing edge to it, "Angels. In the Black Lake. Well, I've never heard such a crazy story." His eyes bored into Scorpius', "Have you?"

Scorpius tried desperately to think of a crazier story that would make this all seem quite tame in comparison but came up with absolutely nothing, all his thoughts instead considering where the exits were and how quickly he could get to them. That window looked ridiculously good right now. Stupid bird brain.

"…ah, no that's ah…pretty crazy…" he stammered embarrassingly. Stammering? Honestly! Malfoys didn't stammer.

( _Except when being chased by asshole peacocks but that was a completely different thing altogether)_

"I know you and Rose fell into the Black Lake after fleeing the forest," Neville said in that same gentle, _knowing_ tone, "You didn't happen to see anything did you? Any odd creatures that happened to fall in around you? Anything vaguely angelic?"

Scorpius was sure he was sweating absolute buckets under his robes. The beast in his head was screaming, fuming, telling him to _run run run RUN_ and he was terrified that he was freakishly close to growing wings right there in front of his boss. Which wouldn't exactly support his ' _I don't know what you're talking about_ ' approach he was taking to his very painful discussion.

He adopted his ever faithful response - he got rude.

"I really can't recall, Professor," Scorpius' voice was a flat and emotionless drawl; a nice stark contrast to what was actually going on inside his head, "I was bit concerned with trying not to die by being gutted by an unrestrained Chimera to notice anything else falling into the lake. But no, I don't believe there were any angels."

There was a long silence during which Scorpius and Neville continued to stare at each other. Scorpius could see the older man considering whether he was going to question further or let it be. He was sorely hoping for the latter; one might even claim he was praying for it.

Seemed there was one God Scorpius had managed not to piss off too much - Neville smiled and took another sip of his tea, the tense almost-standoff abandoned.

"Hmmm didn't think so," he said contemplatively, "I have a sneaking suspicion that the boy actually dreamt the whole thing."

Neville gave a soft sort-of laugh, his eyes now very much dancing with an amusement that Scorpius couldn't help but feel he'd contributed to without knowing.

"Rhys thinks it was acting protectively - absolutely adamant he saw the thing dive for Rose, wrap itself around her, and then crash into the water."

Well.

Sweet holy fuck.

"Like Rose had some kind of, oh I don't know, guardian angel, or something. Fascinating isn't it, what young minds can dream up?" Neville's tone has shifted in a way that Scorpius didn't quite know how to categorise, but he had the feeling that he was very close to being caught out. Maybe he needed to find this kid and obliterate him.

Scorpius swallowed very loudly but he could barely hear it over the pounding of blood rushing through his veins, his suddenly very human heart beating at speeds it was not designed for.

"Yes," he choked out, "Fascinating."

Neville's smile faltered a touch as he looked down into his tea cup contemplatively for an extended moment.

"You would tell me, wouldn't you," he started, before lifting his gaze to watch Scorpius for his reaction, "If there was any reason I should be worried for students' safety around you."

It's phrased as a half-question, half-statement but it hits him like a tonne of bricks nonetheless. Scorpius didn't think he ever really appreciated the magnitude of trust he was asking the Headmaster to have in him; just how badly things could go for Neville should the _condition_ Scorpius refused to disclose to him ended up causing harm to students. Scorpius knew Hogwarts had employed some questionable folk in the past, but it was always with the Headmaster's knowledge of the situation as far as Scorpius was aware. He was asking Neville Longbottom to take an incredible risk by putting an obscene amount of faith in a man whose family was notoriously bad at…well, just kind of bad.

He really should try to remember the man's birthday this year, it seemed the least he could do.

"I would tell you, sir," Scorpius nodded, hoping he sounded far more convincing then he felt, "I'm still…I'm still managing."

He watched as Neville hesitated, clearly thinking about whether he would ask further questions. The older man eventually looked away with a sigh that felt a little heavier than usual; like he had resigned himself to some fate he had hoped to avoid. Scorpius swallowed again and awaited further instructions.

"Very well," Neville said without looking at him, instead swirling his spoon in what was left of his tea, "That's all I wished to speak about."

Thank Merlin and Morgana!

Scorpius tried not to stand too quickly but did exactly that, basically bounding for the door.

"Thanks for the chat Headmaster," Scorpius said respectfully as he edged towards the door, "Do let me know if you require my counsel again."

"Oh don't worry, Scorpius," Neville looked at him, his smile and warm glint in his eyes gone, "I will."

Scorpius turned and left the office. Then promptly vomited in the closest toilet.

* * *

After the door shut, and Neville was sure he was alone, he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. This was a mess. He didn't know exactly what _this_ was, but it was undoubtedly a mess.

First Scorpius ran out of suppressant for an undisclosed condition. Then he and Rose went absolutely bananas at each other with student witnesses. Then there was a goddam Chimera attack. Fires, portkeys, almost-drownings. _Multiple_ almost-drownings. Rose almost died but was somehow saved by Scorpius Malfoy who ran her up to the Hospital Wing entirely on his own. Now the man was acting _more odd than usual,_ and a student swore he saw an angel saving Rose from the fall into the Lake.

Neville pulled open a desk drawer and retrieved the item Phillipa had sought to discuss with him yesterday - a silvery-white feather, of a texture not even she could place, found in the ruin of a fire fight with a Chimera.

Fire. Feathers. Angels. It was a mess.

As he stroked the feather, all Neville could think of was the back of Scorpius' robes was he'd carried Rose to the Hospital Wing, left hanging off him in tatters.

 _Almost as if they'd been…_

Neville filed the feather away and decided he'd have another pot of tea. Maybe he'll consult the portraits of Headmasters present and get their take on it all.

Or maybe he'll just leave Scorpius Malfoy to his own devices and hope for the best.

* * *

Given the day he'd had, Scorpius knew it would be best to simply go to his quarters, have food delivered to his room, and read some more about the family curse to get a better idea of what a suppressant-free life had in store for him. Which is exactly what he did. For an incredibly impressive 2 hours.

He'd managed to change into his pyjamas, force down some food, and read at a grand total of 3 paragraphs since he'd returned. However, reading passages about mating and bonds only made his mind wander to where he - no, _his veela_ \- desperately wanted to be - Rose's bedside. Given it was so late, she might not have visitors at this hour, he'd thought. Then immediately regretted it when his veela started clawing at his skin with renewed vigour.

 _Must see mate. Must make sure she's safe. Must be there for her._

Scorpius didn't want to go, if for no other reason than to assert dominance over the fucking beast in his brain. But his attempts at distraction were laughably inadequate, and there was nothing he could do that dulled the itching under his skin, or the niggling sensation behind his eyes, or the faint ringing in his ears. There wasn't the same sense of urgency like when she was in danger or when he was as far away as the Manor, but there an uncomfortable and entirely too occupying longing that made him basically incapable of doing anything else with his time.

Scorpius contemplated drugging himself into unconsciousness again, confident that with a potent enough Calming Draught and Sleeping Potion he'd be able to get a few hours of restless sleep at least. But there was something in him that didn't want to. He didn't want to keep artificially numbing the beast, afraid he'd build up a tolerance and would eventually reach a point that he was completely unable to rest when he wasn't by Rose's side.

The thought of sleeping at her side made the beast howl in desperation and made something twitch in his heart that was incredibly unhelpful. As long as he kept having even the slightest thought of Rose - and let's face it, he thought of very little else these days - then his veela would keep trying to dictate his movements and disturb his calm.

Resigned to his fate, and reconciling that she was likely asleep and therefore would not be able to be mortified by his presence, Scorpius wrapped himself in his cloak and left his quarters to visit Rose.

( _It will be a brief visit, he told himself.)_

 _(He was a liar)_

The corridors were delightfully deserted, curfew having been enacted at least 40 minutes prior to him leaving his rooms. His footsteps echoed in the empty stone space, and he went about distracting himself from the excitedly giddy monster in his brain by counting each step. He found the Hospital Wing similarly deserted, with Madam Pomfrey's office encased in darkness like the rest of the room. He didn't know where the matronly woman was; probably scouring the halls for the best place to set a snare for him. He didn't care about it too much currently however, far too delighted at the prospect of being able to check in on Rose completed undisturbed to spend too much time entertaining Pomfrey's whereabouts. Scorpius silently shuffled through the shadows, edging towards the teacher-only section of the wing. Part of him felt deeply, _deeply_ disturbed by what he was doing. It felt incredibly creepy to be sneaking in to steal glances at her while she was unconscious. He could pass off the weekend as a desperate attempt to make sure she woke up alright. But now - now he was just slinking in to watch her sleep.

Such a fucking creep. Didn't mean it stopped him.

The bird in his brain was jittery with excitement; it was almost as if he could feel it pacing at the base of his skull, trying to force itself forward to see her immediately. It took a conscious effort not to swear at it out loud.

Scorpius would like it noted that he had every intention of only checking in on Rose; making sure she was breathing, and then heading back to his rooms, the beast hopefully appeased by the proof she wasn't dying. That plan had, however, relied heavily on the assumption that Rose would be sleeping. Which, as he would learn when he poked his head around the partition providing her bed with privacy, she was not.

Rose was sitting in bed in the darkness, staring forlornly out the window. There was an aching in his chest he was too slow to contain, something that ripped through him suddenly with purpose and it insisted he go to her, comfort her, calm her racing thoughts as quickly as he could. It made his feet move without being told, making him clumsily stagger forward before his brain could tell his them to stop. She turned to look at him and he froze, suddenly aware that this was probably not appropriate, even if they were friends. Or something. Her face wasn't angry though - her features were not emblazoned with the ire that he had become so thoroughly accustomed to in their years of hostility. Instead, she was just looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and doubt, like she couldn't quite believe he was really there.

"Scorpius?" She asked, her tone light, not suspicious just surprised.

That would have been the perfect opportunity to say something civil and polite, like ' _hello'_ or ' _yes it's me. How are you this evening?'_.

Instead, his mind forced out what could only be described as a brain fart.

"No," he answered immediately, a worthless attempt at self preservation. Like she couldn't very plainly see him standing a few inches inside her space, gripping the edges of his cloak for dear life lest too much of his skin (which is undoubtedly _shiny_ ) be on display in the dark space. He thought he might have seen her smile a little in the darkness. But it might have been a smirk. Or a grimace.

"Please," she huffed, "I can smell your obnoxiously expensive aftershave at 50 paces."

 _She recognises our scent_.

His veela fucking beamed. He tried not to read too much into the implication.

Speculations aside, the clear lack of anger or disgust led him to straightening, eased by her apparent acceptance of his presence. He didn't move any closer though.

"Funny, I'd never known you were familiar with the concept of covering one's body odour," he was smiling and there was no bite to the comment like there would have been if he'd said it only two weeks ago. Merlin things had changed, "From your stench I always assumed deodorant was a foreign concept for you."

She scoffed at him, "Some of us don't need to bathe in aftershave to remove the lingering smell of dank dungeons and sulphur."

"What you're smelling is proof that I, unlike some, are teaching _actual_ magic," he says it with a genuine smile he knows she can see, even in the dark, "If what you do could really be considered magic, you'd smell of stars."

 _She does. She smells of stars. And the universe. And everything good in the world. And it is delightful._

Ok you creepy fucking bird, time to calm the very fuck down.

She fixed him with a wry smile that had just a touch of haughtiness when she replied.

"Well, given you're just a lowly Potions Master and not _a professional Astronomy Professor_ \- which _is_ actual magic, thank you very much - I wouldn't expect you to know that the stars do, in fact, smell like roses and violets. Which is also what _I_ smell like. Or at least my perfume does. So I do smell like stars. Not at the moment, not with these damn starchy sheets wrapping me up all day…"

Scorpius had stopped listening though - he was far too focused on the admission she'd just made about what she smelt like. Scorpius was no gardener, and the only woman he'd ever brought flowers for in his life was his mother, so he had precisely no idea what the fuck violets smelt like. But, if he was a betting man, he'd be willing to bet his not insignificant fortune that the third new scent his veela had picked up in his Amortentia potion was violets. In fact, he'd almost risk his life on it.

It dawned on him very suddenly in the dark:

He was staring at his mate.

There really wasn't any question to it.

He was going to love her for the rest of his life.

It was fucking terrifying.

Scorpius was tempted to run as far away from her as possible after his little revelation. However, given that his veela was finally at rest and no longer trying to claw a hole in his skull, he figured it would be better for his health to stay. Besides, Rose was sitting there smiling at him. And he simply couldn't walk away from a smiling Rose Weasley. What a goddam turn his life had taken recently.

Having decided he would hang around, Scorpius walked further into the room and out of the shadows that had done an incredibly poorly job at concealing him in the first place. His mind was rushing with questions he wanted to ask her. Some of them are perfectly reasonable ( _how are you feeling?_ ), some of them were less so ( _can I please hold your hand and sleep at your side again?_ ), some of them were so absurd he was afraid to entertain them for barely longer than a moment in his own mind ( _can I hold you forever? Please?_ ). There was an array of perfectly fine questions he could have continued their interaction with. What he eventually said, however, was not one of them.

"Are those ducks?"

He was staring at her chest and it was in no way sexual, because all he could notice was the printed baby animals on her pyjamas. Rose Weasley was wearing baby duck pyjamas. He found it impossibly endearing and hilarious all at once. The look of horror that lit up her face is a memory he will treasure forever. She showed more fear in that moment than what she ever did when he hurled an insult or a hex at her. All over her pyjamas. Scorpius was unreservedly certain he had done precisely nothing to deserve this gift from the universe, but he wasn't going to turn it away.

"No!" She whisper-yelled at him as she scurried down under the covers, "They're…dragons!"

"Bullshit," he fired back with a grin as broad as his face, "You're wearing baby duck pyjamas. You absolute badass."

"They're…" she struggled to find a reasonable excuse, "They were a gift!"

He snorted, "When you were five?"

There was a blush that lit up her entire face - all the way from the base of her neck to her hairline - as she stumbled over her words.

"How-wha-nn-I mean-No!" She eventually forced out but there was something about her hesitation that caught his attention, "No, why would I…I mean I wouldn't still fit pyjamas I was gifted when I was five…"

She was avoiding his eyes and trying to hide as much of herself as possible from his gaze under the bland hospital-issued blankets. Her reaction, he thought, was quite dramatic. Unless…

"Sweet magical Merlin," Scorpius said with dawning elation, his face splitting in a wide smile, "Have you transfigured your childhood pyjamas so they fit you?"

Rose grit her teeth and scowled at him, "If you tell anyone I'll-"

He didn't hear the end of her threat, he was far too busy laughing hysterically and trying not to fall to the floor. She threw a pillow at him and he let it hit his chest with little impact, wiping tears from his eyes. She could hit him over the head with a bludger and he'd be totally fine with it - this was a greater gift than any injury could tarnish.

"I don't believe it!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Rose Weasley is wearing 22 year old pyjamas!"

"You make it sound like I haven't washed them!"

Scorpius wiped tears from his eyes as he eventually recovered, dropping himself into the seat at her bedside much to her disgust.

"I have but one question," he asked her, eyes glittered with mirth. Her huff indicated he go ahead, " _Why?_ "

Rose screwed up her face at his continued snickering.

"They always make me feel better when I'm sick," she provided in a murmured confession. He smiled at her, knowing damn well he was being smug as hell and condescending.

"Oh Rosie," her eyes flicked to him at the use of a nickname she had in no way permitted him to use, "That's adorable."

"Shut _up_ ," she stressed, hoisting the covers all the way up over her head again, " _Merlin_ this is embarrassing."

"I knew there was a reason my feet led me here tonight," he crowed proudly, reclining comfortably in the chair as if he'd just had his fill of all the Christmas pudding he could stomach. Content, he was comfortably content, "It was so the universe could provide for me this gift - Rose Weasley in her childhood duckie pyjamas."

"I'm going to punch you," came her muffled threat under the covers.

"Aw don't do that Rosie," he used the moniker again which caused her to poke the top of her head out of her blanket fortress so she could shoot daggers at him, "I'd hate to get a boo-boo."

She muttered something into the blankets that he didn't catch, which only provided him with more material to work with.

"Come on _Wosie Posie_ , use your big girl words."

" _I said_ ," she announced as she shimmied up the bed and out of her blanket cocoon, all semblance of saving face apparently lost "I'd like to see how smug you are when I remove your ball sack with a blunt spoon, you asshole."

Scorpius just cackled loudly again, his face almost hurting from the strain of being so openly and violently happy for so long.

 _(If he were in the mood for introspection, he'd be struck by just how sad that reality was. As it were, his spirits were simply too light to focus on such negative thoughts._ )

"Honestly if that's the price I pay for seeing this," he gestured to her entire person as she sat up straight again, "Then it might even be worth it."

She huffed as she fell back against her mountain of pillows and crossed her arms angrily across her chest.

"I assumed you weren't coming to visit again," she said as way of explanation, "I thought I'd be safe from your mocking."

 _We'll always come back_.

Scorpius ignored his veela's voice. Ignored it, while still agreeing with it.

"Twas fate I come here tonight," he announced in as loud a voice he was willing to use in the otherwise silent Hospital Wing, "The creators knew I needed to view this spectacle to continue living."

"God you're _such_ a prick," she sighed before angrily turning her face towards him to ask directly, "Why are you here anyway?"

He shrugged, all worries about silencing a maddening veela forgotten now he was in her presence.

"I thought I'd come and visit the school's most famous valetudinarian," he dropped the mocking tone and adopted a more genuine one, "How's life as an in-patient?"

Something was suddenly sucked out of the room as Rose's shoulders slumped. His veela, who had previously been happy to sit back and watch their interactions happily, stood up at attention, knowing what Scorpius didn't quite have time to acknowledge.

 _Something's wrong. Mate is sad._

"It's awful," Rose grumbled as she avoiding his eyes, picking at a pulled thread in her blanket disdainfully, "I'm basically bed-bound. Pomfrey doesn't let me walk around for more than 20 minutes at a time, Neville won't let me go back to work for at least another week, and the students keep treating me like I've come back from the dead."

Scorpius didn't dare think about how close to the truth that remark was for fear of breaking out in hives. Or feathers.

"I just want to get out of this place," she let out a heavy sigh and fell back into her mountain of pillows. She did _not_ look adorable, he told himself, not at _all,_ "I miss my tower."

It was testament to just how effected he'd been by the whole ordeal that his first instinct was not to mock her mercilessly and brag about his ability to stroll the corridors as he pleased. There was no desire to tease her like he had not moments before about her ridiculous pyjamas. Instead there was a fluttering in his stomach and an innate need for him to help her. His hands itched to reach out to her and provide comfort in any way that he could. He really wanted to hold her hand.

But he was a grown-ass adult in control of his own actions so he definitely didn't do that.

He sat on his untrustworthy hands instead.

He may not be able to offer comfort (well he _could_ but he's not sure how she'd respond to that, especially after how much he laughed at her) but Scorpius thought he might be able to do the next best thing. He stood and ducked out into the general infirmary area, leaving Rose alone with a surprised expression across her features. There were two students in beds right down the other end (flying lessons gone awry), but they seemed to be either asleep or entirely concussed. Either way, they looked unlikely to snitch to Pomfrey on his diabolical scheme. Scorpius still couldn't see Pomfrey anywhere, meaning she was somewhere else fussing over how to inflict pain and nonsense on debilitated staff and students. Which, in this specific situation, just so happened to be perfect for his plans.

Scorpius hurried back to Rose's bedside, summoning her cloak from where it hung over the back of a nearby chair as he did so.

"Right Rose, we've got a window of opportunity," he said with a smile that was just a touch too proud, "Get out of bed."

"What?" She was baffled and a tad worried, "Why?"

"Because," he smiled broadly as he dumped her cloak unceremoniously in her lap, "We're going for a walk."

Her eyes lit up for a moment before the light died out again quickly.

"But Madam Pomfrey said I should stay in bed."

"What Madam Pomfrey doesn't know won't hurt her," he shot with a smile, nudging the cloak in her lap again.

"She'll find out eventually," Rose protested.

"Says who?" He fired back immediately before gesturing in the direction of the general infirmary, "The two unconscious kids in the Hospital Wing or all the kids not in the corridor because it's after curfew? No one's going to rat us out."

He tried not to notice how nice it felt to say 'us' when talking about him and Rose. He could get used to that - being an ' _us'_ with Rose.

She didn't look convinced, "I can't leave - she'll kill me."

"She's already killing you with boredom, Rose," Scorpius justified with an easy shrug, "Besides, it'll be worth it to get out of that bed for a few hours won't it?"

That made her consider things seriously. He saw the gears ticking over in her mind, her face always being far too expressive for her own good. And he'd learnt to read her a long time ago. She looked at her cushiony prison and he watched the desire to flee it paint across her features.

"I don't want her to worry when she realises I'm gone," Rose said quietly, although he could tell that this was an argument she didn't think good enough to keep her here. He was wearing her down. He hoped it was a sign of how charming he could be in all areas regarding Rose when he gave it a little effort.

"We'll leave a note." Scorpius replied quickly with an easy smile, conjuring a notepad and quill effortlessly.

Rose picked up her cloak but made no move to put it on, "I really shouldn't…"

He scribbled out a message and placed the note on Rose's bedside table, thoroughly satisfied with his efforts.

"Come on Rose, live a little dangerously," and without thinking, he held out his hand to her.

She looked at the appendage, then up to his smirk, then back to his hand. It was only as she was hesitating that Scorpius realised she might reject him. He was potentially about to suffer a great humiliation and embarrassment, and would have to slink back to his room immediately to cry to himself in the mirror. His heart rate kicked up and he felt himself beginning to sweat. It only lasted a moment however, before Rose smiled at him and took his hand after she'd shrugged herself into her cloak.

And well gee, wasn't that like a fist-bump to his heart and gonads.

"You're a bad influence, Scorpius," Rose whispered as she shuffled out of bed and into her slippers, "Only a week of being friends and I'm already breaking the rules."

"Oh the corruption is only just beginning, Rose," he whispered with a smile, noticing far too late that he was very openly flirting with Rose Weasley. To ensure she couldn't slap him, he turned and led them towards the end of the teacher's infirmary, tip-toeing quietly in the silent Hospital Wing. In an attempt to forget his last comment he distracted her by murmuring, "Besides, you're having a bad influence on me as well."

"How so?" She asked from somewhere south of his arm pit. Had she always been so…little?

"Just today I said _thank you_ to a _student_ , Rose," he did well at sounding thoroughly scandalised, "I barely recognise myself."

That earned him a light nudge to his hip but he could tell it was done in jest for the first time in either of their lives. It was an invigorating and honestly thrilling development - casual physical contact. His veela was heady with happiness. Scorpius craned his neck out to check that there wouldn't be any witnesses, then tugged her hand gently to signal it was time to run.

Then, like a pair of giggling teenagers he so passionately despised, Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy ran out of the darkened Hospital Wing and into the corridor as they sniggered to themselves.

The blood pumped through his veins faster. The tingling at his neck felt comfortable instead of irritating. He felt a lightness in his soul he'd never experienced, and the bird in his brain preened in delight. He felt so intensely, passionately _alive_ just by holding her hand and hearing her laugh.

He had it fucking bad.

To Scorpius' great dismay, Rose let go of his hand soon after entering the corridor, tying her cloak around her tightly to shield her pyjamas. His sadness at the loss of contact was quickly abated by the truly ecstatic grin on her face.

"Freedom!" She exclaimed happily before continuing to shuffle down the corridor in her slippers, "Oh I'm so glad I'm out of that place!"

"Let's not celebrate just yet," Scorpius muttered, hurrying down the darkened corridor and resisting the urge to reach for her hand again, "Pomfrey probably has guard dogs or something around here that can sniff out runaways - we better keep moving."

"Right!" She agreed, suddenly serious as she shuffled quickly after him.

He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, taking in this wondrously unprecedented moment of Rose Weasley willingly following his lead. He looked at the way she smiled, the way she skipped every few paces with delight, her hair crazy as ever down her back. She caught him looking at her and Scorpius had a fleeting moment of panic that he was going to do something incredibly stupid like wrap her in his arms and snog her senseless.

"What?" She asked, and he thanked every lucky star he didn't have that he managed to force out something that sounded vaguely convincing.

"I still can't believe Rose Weasley wears children's duck pyjamas," he beamed at her as she rolled her eyes.

"Well excuse me," she drawled, "My negligee wasn't exactly Hospital Wing-appropriate nightwear."

And now he was picturing Rose Weasley in nothing but black lace.

Instant erection.

Fuck.

He coughed and looked ahead, too afraid to keep looking her in the eye for fear his arousal became even more obvious. She'd always been able to read him like a book, and it shamed him to know that he's definitely been aroused in her presence before (that time in sixth year when she'd caught him just about to get to third base with Abigail Hancroft in the restricted section of the library was forever burned into his brain, as was the episode of vomiting slugs that followed it). He really didn't want her recognising the signs now, not when everything else had gone so well this evening. Instead he focused on the corridor ahead of them, happy to exist in silence as they hurried off to her beloved tower.

Rose hummed to herself as they went, something he wasn't entirely sure she was even consciously aware she was doing. Scorpius smiled to himself and resisted the urge to chastise her for it - any sign of her happiness seems to have a direct positive effect on his own. And if humming a tune he didn't recognise while they made their daring escape was going to make her happy, well, Scorpius was more than happy to allow it.

* * *

 _And that be it for this instalment lovelies. I'm sorry I've been AWOL with messages as well - I promise I will try to get to them and respond over the coming days._

 _Reviews make me absurdly happy. Please let me know what you think so far if you can spare the time - I'd be eternally grateful._

 _Until next time, shine on and stay safe XX_


	11. Chapter 11

_What is this?! An update?! SO SOON! Don't get used to it; unfortunately, my life is about to get hectic again, but I wanted to smash this out because this whole story has spent so long in my head I just feel like I need to free it as soon as my life allows me time to do so._

 _Ya'll have waited for a healthy dose of Scorose interaction and I have five words for you: ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE._

 _These two dumbasses are finally getting their act together and it's been wonderful to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. We get some gooey feels, we get some snark, we get the beginning of a beautiful (more than) friendship. For those (very) patiently awaiting the smut - this is definitely going to be a slow burn. A VERY slow burn. But we're getting there, promise._

 _Also, I have no idea what the layout of Hogwarts is (I tried researching but got conflicting info). So let's just pretend the layout allows the adventures that take place._

 _I'd also like to say a quick thanks to everyone who reviewed and welcomed me back from my writer's block abyss - it's been so heart-warming to read your messages. Much love to you all, now onto what you're all here for - the Scorosey goodness._

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Nesting Behaviour**

Watching Rose Weasley walk in to her beloved Astronomy Tower for the first time since _The Incident_ was truly a site to behold.

She'd rushed up the final steps in an excited gallop, pushing past him on her way, her fluffy slippers making a muted scuffling sound with each step. She pushed open the doors and took one step inside, and then she stopped. Rose was barely past the threshold, still holding the door open, and closed her eyes in a contentment Scorpius wasn't sure he'd ever truly witnessed or experienced for himself. He stood behind her, a few steps below to allow her this moment of peace and serenity on her own. He watched as her entire body expanded with the deep breath she drew in, sucking as much of the space into her tiny little body as she possibly could.

He absently hoped one day she'd come to love him even a fraction as much as she loved this damn room. And _OK YOU STUPID FUCKING BIRD, IF YOU COULD STOP FORCING THOUGHTS LIKE THAT INTO HIS MIND RIGHT THIS VERY MOMENT THAT'D BE SWELL._

" _Hello Darling!"_ Rose announced to the room, greeting it as if it were a living, breathing organism, "How have you been? I've _missed_ you."

Scorpius smiled and followed her in as she swept through the room like a tiny, benevolent hurricane.

"Have you missed me?" She asked the open space, spinning in circles, her eyes not able to settle on one particular spot for any length of time, "Have they been taking care of you?"

She flicked her wrist and the entire space was filled with warm candlelight, every surface glowing as brightly as her smile. Rose stepped into the room and brought a life essence with her – suddenly the room was alive with her, shifting and shaking as it woke up. It was a stunning thing to behold.

Scorpius finally crossed the threshold, no longer feeing like he was intruding on a very private and almost ritualistic practice. He closed the door behind them, weary of any students or staff member that heard the commotion. They may not be bound to the same curfews as students, but Scorpius really didn't want to share these moments with anyone else. He was a terribly selfish being, but he didn't want any person coming into this little oasis he'd just discovered - he wanted these memories all for his own. He wanted to be able to observe Rose Weasley at peace and happy, he wanted to know what it felt like to be in the company of an exuberant Rose Weasley and let it sink into his bones and blend with his blood. Scorpius just wanted tonight, these few precious moments, all for himself.

Rose had thrown off her cloak, now proudly tottering around the room in her duckie pyjamas. Whether she was muttering to herself or the room itself, Scorpius wasn't too sure, but he felt an odd sense of calm by just being here and observing her in her natural habitat. Whenever he'd been in the Astronomy Tower before it had been under the pretext of annoying her, of coming to yell at her, or doing something that she would generally find incredibly unpleasant. This meant that anytime he'd been here, he had only ever witnessed Rose at her wildest - a fierce protector of her safe space from whatever evil he intended to bring. It was so different now, being welcomed in like it was a very private haven; to feel how the space just felt so intensely like Rose that he found it almost a little hard to comprehend.

 _Home_.

Scorpius felt a flush rising on his cheeks at the comment from his veela, sheepishly accepting that it was right - there was just something about this place that felt like home. And not just _a_ home, but like it could be _his_ home. _Their_ home. He came to a sudden realisation that this was why he'd been able to smell candle wax and hazelnut coffee in his Amortentia - because that's what this space felt like. And this space was so undoubtedly _Rose_ that it was just another way his bird identified what brought him happiness, what he desired. It's…a little much to take on right now.

Scorpius couldn't help but notice that his veela was entirely at peace in this space. He felt it curled up at the base of his skull, content and sleepy, happy to simply be while in this space with Rose. It was information he'd keep stored away for later.

Scorpius' internal pondering was interrupted when Rose let out a horrified squeak.

" _What_ are you doing there?!"

Poised to defend himself from his apparent misstep, Scorpius focused in on Rose to realise she wasn't looking at him or concerned with his presence in the slightest. (An odd occurrence, to not be the cause of Rose Weasley's distress). Instead, she was fussing over a large ornate telescope that was pushed into the corner.

"This isn't where you belong," she told the lifeless object as she dragged it out of the corner, completely unconcerned by the screeching of the metal legs against the stone floor, "I'll put you back in your pride of place, poor baby."

Rose Weasley spoke to her telescope like it was a child. Maybe they were just as crazy as each other.

With such an exemplary opportunity to ridicule her, and being a little bit uneasy at feeling so enveloped by the spiritual warmth of the room, Scorpius took the opportunity to tease her.

"Did you just call that telescope ' _poor baby_ '?" He asked her in the same tone he'd asked her if her pyjama were covered ducks - smug and condescending as hell. She shot him a glare over her shoulder than held little heat.

"Yes," she didn't even bother lying, still tugging the golden object towards a particularly large window near her desk, "Asteria here is basically my child."

"It's an inanimate object."

"You're an inanimate object."

He crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at her in judgment, "I think wearing a five-year old's pyjamas is making your brain regress."

"Maybe I'm just dropping to your IQ level," she said it without looking at him, still positioning her telescope to be in the perfect position, "You know, make sure we're on evening footing."

"Even footing, huh?" he snorted, "You planning on growing an extra foot too?"

She smiled at him with a touch of deviant madness and _Merlin's beard_ it did delicious things to his groin.

"Nah, at my height I'll be able to sneak up on you, ya great hulking giant," she propped herself up against her telescope, apparently satisfied with its positioning, "And don't think I won't bite your kneecaps if necessary."

He'd let her bite him wherever she damn pleased.

"I've known you long enough to expect such dirty tactics," he said, proud of how close to unaffected he sounded when he was so incredibly affected, "I'll make kneepads out of brussels sprouts."

"Jokes on you!" She cried triumphantly, moving about the space to check for other things being out of order, "I love brussels sprouts!"

"No you don't," he called her bluff immediately. She paused, turned to look at him with a look of frustration and suspicion.

"How do you know that?" She asked, watching him closely.

Oh shit. Had he said too much? Of course he had. Now was not the time to show that he'd been secretly storing pieces of information about her in the back of his mind for years now. Merlin Almighty maybe his father had been on to something when he claimed Scorpius always paid more attention to Rose then anyone he supposedly liked. He tried to come up with a convincing answer before his lingering silence drew even more suspicion.

"Who likes Brussel Sprouts?" He shrugged, "You may be certifiably insane, but even you aren't 'brussels-sprout-loving' crazy."

"Huh," she sighed contemplatively as she reordered some books on what he would have assumed was a largely unused bookcase given its dust coverage, "That might be the closest thing to a compliment I've ever received from you."

"Don't get used to it," he said, completely incapable of stopping himself from smiling. The exchange was like all their interactions - fast-paced, quick-witted, highly-charged - but this time it was amicable. It gave him a buzz. He'd never been high before, but he thought this lightness and joy might be what it was like.

"You know," he added, desperate to continue their conversation, "Considering I just gave you a kind-of compliment, I feel like you owe me."

"What? A 'kind-of-compliment'?"

"Yes."

She shot him a look that seemed to say ' _you're better than fishing for compliments'_.

So he shot her one back that said ' _I absolutely am not'_.

Rose rolled her eyes and leant back against the bookcase while she assessed him. If there was one thing Scorpius didn't think he'd ever experience in his life, it would be getting sized up by Rose Weasley at 10:00pm in the Astronomy Tower while she wore duck pyjamas. He wasn't one hundred percent sure that this wasn't all some bizarre fever dream - it made more sense than this actually being his life. She hummed her consideration before settling on something.

"Your hair is less-awful than your face," she said finally.

" _Excuse me?!"_ His indignant reply came swiftly.

"You heard me," she shot him a smirk before turning back to the bookcase and adding in a sing-song voice, "No need to thank me."

"Trust me," he huffed as he started making his way towards the small kitchenette near her workspace, "I had no intention of that."

"Well that's what you get for fishing for kind-of compliments."

He grunted at her in response and he was fairly certain, unless he really was completely losing his mind, he heard her laugh at him. A genuine laugh, not one that was mocking or cruel. Not laughing _at_ him but laughing _with_ him.

He was the source of Rose Weasley happiness. His veela preened and bowed in response. Because it was a pathetic bird creature. Scorpius didn't preen, and he didn't bow. And the smile he had on his face was completely coincidental. Mostly.

"I'm making a cuppa," he announced, divesting himself of his cloak on the armchair he'd inhabited when he had almost died after his ill-advised broom ride, "Want anything?"

If she found his offer to make her tea strange, she didn't show it. Probably because she was far too distracted by _hugging a curtain_. Merlin she was batty.

And now he was jealous of a curtain. Just great.

"Hazelnut coffee please!" She called, interrupting his scowling match with the drapes.

Scorpius headed to the kitchen and did his absolute best to make whatever the fuck hazelnut coffee was. He looked at the variety of jars she had stacked precariously on the shelf above the sink and was horrified at what he found. Her 'system' - and he used the term incredibly lightly - was chaotic at best and non-existent at worst. There were coffee cups and teacups stacked haphazardly that seemed to be defying the laws of physics by remaining upright. The random assortments of condiments were being stored in jars that he was fairly sure previously held magical ingredients and did not appear to have been cleaned properly before being used for food. How she hadn't accidentally poisoned herself was completely beyond him. There was a random quill sticking out of the milk jug and was that - yes, she had what he was sure was a broken wand being used as a teaspoon in the sugar pot, which had been broken and glued back together so many times it looks like an intricate mosaic. The labels on the bottles were written in scrawling prose in different colours and appeared to have been written when the label was stuck to the curved bottles, resulting in uneven scripture that was an assault on his eyes.

Scorpius wandered if it was possible for untidiness to bring on an aneurysm.

He was tempted to yell at her, to storm in the open space and demand that she cease hugging curtains and come in here at once to tidy up this absolute disaster. But when he ducked his head out into the open area again, he saw her singing to herself as she polished her beloved telescopes, a smile in full bloom across her features. Maybe he'd let her off. For now.

A few minutes later, he walked back into the classroom carrying two steaming mugs of coffee - one hazelnut, one regular. He beckoned her over and she shuffled over happily, eyes bright with the promise of her precious caffeinated beverage.

"That shelf," Scorpius said, gesturing into the abhorrent kitchenette once Rose was nursing her mug, "Is a health risk."

Rose rolled her eyes as she dropped herself into the armchair he had previously been occupying, forcing him to sit on the substantially less comfortable stool instead.

"It is not," she defended in between deep inhales of the hazelnut aroma, "You're just anal retentive."

"I am _not_ anal retentive," he said, mildly insulted, "I am, however, acutely aware that it is important to _properly wash_ jars before putting random condiments into them."

"I did wash them."

"You sugar pot has a twig of Aconite stuck to the inside of it."

"It gives it extra flavour."

"Aren't you worried you'll accidentally brew something you're not supposed to?" He exclaimed, apparently far more panicked about the situation than he had allowed himself to acknowledge. He received a pointed eyebrow in response.

"I don't know how you take your coffee, Scorpius, but there are few ways to fuck up pouring hot water onto granules and adding milk so badly that I accidentally make a useable potion."

"But who knows what you're adding if your pots aren't clean!"

"Come on _Potion Master_ ," she said it as if his title was hypothetical, which was incredibly insulting, "You know more than anyone else how complex potion brewing is. There's no way I'm going to accidentally brew my coffee clockwise 13 times and tap it six times or whatever else it specifies in those ridiculous recipes of yours."

 _Recipes?! RECIPES?!_ They were _not_ recipes! They were step by step instructions on how to carefully mix and combine a complex mixture of ingredients to create-

Holy shit.

They were recipes.

He was a magical baker.

Scorpius didn't know how to process that realisation, so focused instead on arguing about the standards of her kitchenette again.

"Ok, first of all, they're not _mine -_ these potions are hundreds of years old."

She smirked as she cut him off, "So what I'm hearing is that you're not exactly breaking new ground."

He levelled her with a look, "When was the last time you discovered a new constellation?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek while she stared him down, but he could see the brightness in her eyes still remained.

"Fair point," she eventually muttered.

"I'm sorry," he sputtered, taken aback, "did you just concede that I was _right?_ "

"No!" She defended hotly, but there was a light twinkling in her eyes that had never been there during their verbal sparring before that had him smiling, "I just acknowledged that you are less wrong than usual."

"Being wrong or right is not a gradient."

"Yes it is!"

"How do you possibly fathom that?"

"If you said ' _Africa is a country'_ you'd be wrong, because it's a continent," it must have been the effect of being in her classroom, because Rose suddenly looked and sounded like she was teaching a class. He tried very hard not to find it erotic, "But if you said ' _Africa is a turtle'_ then you would be _more_ wrong, because that's just bizarre and in no way close to the truth. Henceforth, it is possible to be _more wrong_."

"Bullshit," he shook his head and adopted a tone similar to the one he used when he taught; equal parts smug and bored, "If someone said Africa is a country they would be just as much of an incorrect idiot as if they said it was a turtle because it is neither of those things. If something's not right - it's wrong. Plain and simple."

"Is your entire world so black and white?" She cocked her head to the side with a smile that indicated she was judging him. And shit, that was erotic as well.

"No, there is also quite an abundance of red."

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck _FUCK_. Why did he say that? Did she notice that he was looking right at her hair when he said it?

Thank heavens she laughed.

"What? From all the blood you keep spilling when someone pronounces _Amortentia_ wrong?"

"No, from all your fucking hair I keep finding in my goddam classroom."

She openly laughed at him then. It was a vibrant sound; so loud and full of life. He tried not to become enraptured in it and he failed quite spectacularly. The small victory he gained by covering his misstep was immediately destroyed by her smiling at him which caused his heart to plummet to the pit of his stomach.

Good fucking Lord he had it bad. His veela wasn't even the one pointing all this stuff out - he was just noticing it for himself now. The thought made him want to shit a brick.

To avoid and further revelations about how damn attractive Rose Weasley looked in her duckie pyjamas while she verbally sparred with him, Scorpius took a large gulp of his coffee and pretended to contemplate the flavour for several moments. Rose also took to sipping her coffee, each additional mouthful causing her smile to spread wider in a relaxed contentment he wasn't sure he'd ever witnessed when he was in her presence before.

Scorpius was content to sit in silence with Rose sat across from him. There was something oddly intimate about this - about sitting here sharing a cuppa late at night with no one else around. It felt like it was an ages-old routine, like he could see them doing this until the end of their days, like they'd been doing it since the start of time. Which was obviously not at all accurate. But there was something that happened in these quiet moments, something that felt significant. Sitting here in the silence, being in each other's company and knowing that they wouldn't rather be sitting with anyone else - it means something to him. Something strong and sincere and scary. Scorpius tried not to think about it too much though, promising himself that he could over-analyse it tomorrow as was his way. But for now, right here, he could just sit and sip his coffee and simply be. It felt like a luxury, and he wanted to indulge in it as often as he could.

Rose broke their cocoon of serenity by clearing her throat and setting her cup aside. Clearly she had something she wanted to say, but if the pained expression on her features was anything to go by, he'd guess she wasn't particularly happy about it. He mourned the loss of their tranquil co-existence even before she ended it.

"I have to thank you," Rose said suddenly, sounding uncomfortable with the notion - understandable given it was a completely new concept to her. Scorpius tried to shrug off her gratitude even though there was something in him that smiled at the potential praise.

"You don't really - I wasn't sleeping anyway," he gave a dismissive wave, "You're doing me a favour getting me out of marking papers."

Which was, in fact, a big fat lie. Rose shook her head at his dismissal.

"No, I don't mean breaking me out. I mean, I guess I do, but that's not all of it, I just…" she sighed in frustration, "Urgh, Merlin this is hard."

She twisted a few curls through her fingertips - her hair far too uncooperative to allow her to run her hands through it like Scorpius did to his when he was frustrated - and seemed to struggle with her words for a few moments. Scorpius waited patiently, knowing that this was important to her.

"I wanted to say thank you for being a dick."

He started. That wasn't the praise he had been expecting.

"It's ah…my honour?"

"No," she sighed, tugging on her curls, "That - that might have come out a bit wrong."

Thank fuck.

She settled and took a steadying breath before trying again for the appropriate sentiment she wanted to express.

"I wanted to thank you for being a dick because you're the only person who has been _normal_ around me," she explained. Scorpius tried not to laugh hysterically at the idea of anyone calling his recent behaviour normal, "Everyone else has been treating me like I'm made of glass or something; so terrified that I'll break and shatter at a moment's notice. Everyone's looking at me like I'm about to die and I'm fucking sick of it. I just want to have normal conversations and get back to my life and forget that whole Chimaera shit ever happened. But it's all anyone ever talks about when they come to see me. But you-"

She stopped then, turned to face him, afraid she sounded crazy or ungrateful. Scorpius just gave a little smile in response, hoping it was what she had needed. By the way her lip quirked up and the tension stopped rolling off her in waves, he'd say he had been successful.

"You're still giving me shit," Rose smiled when she said it and his heart bloomed with pride, "You tell me I smell, and you make fun of my pyjamas, and you belittle my profession. And even though all of those things are _incredibly_ frustrating - and not at all cohesive to our 'let's be friends' arrangement, by the way - they're normal. They're what I know. You're not taking pity on me and you're not afraid to talk to me at a normal pace. And I really can't thank you enough for that. It's so nice to be treated like a regular human being."

She let out a bark of a laugh he may have once found abhorrently loud - now his veela preened at the sound and excitedly awaited more praise.

"You're usually the one driving me fucking mental, and yet right now you're the only one keeping me sane," she huffed out a laugh and smiled broadly, "How fucking weird is that?"

His smile was wide and he hoped she couldn't see what must have be a very blatant _wanting_ in his eyes.

"There are stranger things," he said, surprising even himself with how heavy the statement sounded. Her smile didn't fade, but there was a type of understanding reflected in her gaze and there's something that he just _knows_ without rhyme or reason - she gets it. Rose knows there's something different happening here. It's not just him. Appeared she was also deciding to ignore it like he was. Which he's happy with. For now.

"I guess there are," Rose eventually replied, her voice sounding thoughtful.

The silence settles over them again, still intimate, still comfortable and now…well he couldn't really describe it. But there was something different now that had him at ease. Some sense of belonging - like he was doing something right by being here. Rose finished her coffee in one very large gulp (she could probably down a butter beer in a matter of seconds) before darting off to another corner of the room to rearrange star charts. Scorpius highly doubted whoever had been subbing her classes has changed everything Rose was fiddling with, but it was clearly important to her that she have control over the space, that it be _her's_ again. So Scorpius moved to the armchair, summoned a book that seemed least likely to offend him, and sat silently reading while Rose hummed to herself. His veela was silent. It was the most peaceful he'd felt in weeks.

* * *

After about an hour and a half in the Astronomy Tower, Rose announced that it was probably time for her to head back. Scorpius had risen from his seat and they began the trek back to the Hospital Wing in companionable silence. He had been lighting up the corridors to keep his glowing situation under control, and things had been going very well. Right up until they started to go a bit wrong.

He'd first noticed it as he waited for her at the bottom of the steps up to the tower; when they'd started walking down she'd been right behind him, but when he found himself at the bottom, he couldn't see Rose behind him. He could hear her shuffling steps further up the winding stone staircase, and when she eventually reappeared, she had her hand braced against the wall to support her. He'd raised an eyebrow at her but she'd just smiled primly, turned her nose up and made a show of stomping past him very determinedly.

That determination had lasted perhaps another 15 steps. She started to struggle again barel three meters from where he'd stopped to wait for her. Her steps slowed, she took to shuffling rather than properly walking, and she seemed to rest a hand against the wall every few steps. Part of his brain told him to ignore it - that a woman as fiercely independent as Rose did not need him coddling her. She'd probably get angry at him and this lovely evening would end with her yelling at him.

The other part of his brain, however, knew what he was witnessing wasn't right, and he simply couldn't let it slide. Not to mention his veela was starting to wake up and fret again.

"Are you ok, Rose?" Scorpius asked, noticing her staggering gait and how fatigued she seemed to be. She gave him a half smile and a scoff.

"I'm fine."

She definitely wasn't.

When he looked at her closer, he noticed her skin had taken on a slightly ashen tone, the circles under her eyes seemed more pronounced, and he could hear that her breathing was getting more laboured. Not to mention he'd just implied she was in some way incapable and she hadn't even _threatened_ to assault him. His bird brain was worrying; he could feel it wriggling tensely at the base his skull.

 _Mate needs help. We need to help her._

For once, Scorpius agreed with the thing in his head, and decided he'd gently express his concern.

"You look like shit," he stated bluntly. Old habits died hard. Besides, she wanted him to treat her like a normal human - this was the level of empathy he had some most other sapiens. Give or take. She glared at him a little and continued her staggering shuffle at an agonisingly slow pace. Again, no assault. Dear Merlin she might be dying. Again.

"So do you, but at least I'm polite enough not to mention it," she muttered, her thoughts seeming to be elsewhere. She still had snark so she probably wasn't dying. But it simply wasn't a risk he was willing to take.

"I mean it Rose, you look like you're going to collapse."

"I'm _fine,"_ there was more bite to her tone, but he could hear it was frustration rather than anger. And he'd be willing to bet she wasn't frustrated at him, but rather at her body that seemed to be slowly failing her.

"I think we should stop," he announced, coming to a pause beside her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye but continued to advance down the hallway very slowly. She now needed to hold the wall the entire way. That wasn't comforting.

"I think we should keep going," she argued, trying to hide how out of breath she sounded, "Pomfrey will probably start sending out a search party if we're not back soon"

"You're barely moving."

"That's only because you keep stopping me!" She snapped. He took one step for five of hers; things were not going well for her, "We'd already be there already if you didn't…didn't keep talking."

"You sound like you're snoring but you're awake and it's grating on my ears," that earned him a glare which he was happy for, it was a sign of life at least, "You need to stop."

"Look, if you need a…a break, then that's…that's fine…" she really sounded like she was struggling now. He had to fight an urge to reach out and steady her, "But I…I'm going to…"

Nope. Fuck this. He was giving in to that urge.

Scorpius stepped in front of her and braced his arms on her shoulders - a nice respectable spot that could not be misconstrued as flirtatious in any way.

She glared at him, glancing at his hand on her shoulder in a look that said ' _remove your appendages from my person before I remove them for you'_.

He levelled her with a glare of his own that said ' _I will restrain myself when you stop being a stubborn ass'._

Rose didn't stop being stubborn, so Scorpius didn't remove his hands. Fair was fair.

"You need to stop," he said it clearly in a tone that allowed no room for argument, "You're injured, and you need to take a break."

"We need to get back," she stressed, clearly exasperated, "Pomfrey will be starting to fret."

"I give less than one single fuck about Pomfrey's fretting," he held her gaze, momentarily incapable of looking away, "My top priority is making sure you don't collapse on me again. It was terrifying enough the first time."

That gave her pause, something flashing across her features that looked a little bit like concern. If he had to hazard a guess, he supposed it was probably the look that was reflected on his own face. She finally stopped trying to force herself forward, letting out an angry huff as she crossed her arms.

"Look, I'm not going to take a nap here on the floor," she explained, and Scorpius wondered if she was consciously aware she was blinking so slowly, "Delaying the time it takes to get back to the Hospital Wing isn't going to make me feel any better. I'll just keep getting more and more tired; we need to keep moving."

Scorpius was not satisfied with that approach in any way.

"Well we'll have to come up with an alternative," he said it simply, trying to hide the fact that this was anything but simple to fix.

"I don't have any portkeys," Rose offered, her go-to approach to most transportation issues, "And we can't apparate on school grounds. What's your plan?"

Scorpius thought for a moment or two, trying very hard not to get distracted by her eyes that were watching him expectantly. He wanted to think of an ingenious plan just to spite her, but he was, quite annoyingly, coming up blank. Growing frustrated and desperate and distracted by the winged beast in his head that had started to claw at his consciousness, Scorpius said the first thing that came into his mind.

"I can carry you back to the hospital wing! Not a problem!"

YES. YES PROBLEMS. MANY PROBLEMS. MANY MANY PROBLEMS. WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE THINKING?!

Thankfully, Rose gave him an out by shooting him an unimpressed look, "I'm not having you carry me, Scorpius"

"Come on!" He exclaimed with the casual air of a madman, "I've done it before, and this trip will be way easier than bringing you up from the boat house!"

The second the words left his mouth he knew he'd fucked up. Significantly. Again.

"Um, I mean…" He tried to cover it quickly, but one look in her eyes and he knew there wasn't any use. Rose looked like he'd just told her someone she loved had died suddenly - disbelief, uncertainty, sadness, and perhaps even a little bit of anger. Her tiny voice echoed in the silence of the otherwise abandoned corridor.

"You carried me from the boat house?"

"Well, I mean…I…" Scorpius looked at her with her giant blue eyes that stared at him intently and found himself completely incapable of lying to her, "Yes; I carried you to the Hospital Wing."

They stood in silence for a number of moments, both trying to come to grips with the enormity of the moment - Rose trying to reconcile that Scorpius (for lack of a better word) rescued her, while Scorpius tried to reconcile that she knew the truth about it and with that came a number of conversations he wasn't sure he was ready to have.

When she breaks the silence, it's with one word.

"Why?"

He let out a heavy sigh and gave her what he hoped was a gentle smile and not a terrified grimace in return.

"Rose, you were barely conscious," he said it plainly, trying to skip over some of the more delicate details for fear of upsetting her, "You collapsed in my arms after dragging me out of the lake."

"Why didn't you just call for Pomfrey?" She questioned, a touch accusatorially.

"I couldn't wait for Pomfrey."

She scoffed, "It would have taken maybe ten minutes…"

"You were bleeding from the head and I couldn't keep you conscious," his hand was shaking as much as his voice, "I didn't _have_ ten minutes."

She must see something, he thinks, in the way he's looking at her - a desperate man silently begging to _please drop this_ because he can't relive these memories. Not again. Not with her here. Rose stood in silence, wringing her hands and struggling to think of any way she could fill this space that's between them that feels so much greater than the physical distance.

"Oh…" she eventually stuttered before offering a weak explanation, "I thought I walked and just couldn't remember; thought the knock to the head had just effected my memory."

He supposed it made sense, after all, what alternative could her mind have possibly conjured? Why would she ever consider, even for a moment, that he had held her close, had listened for her heartbeat, had desperately wished for her to hold on - hold on to the light, hold on to him - for fear of him facing an existence without her. No, he's sure the thought had never crossed her mind.

"No." He eventually said curtly, looking away from her, "Not quite."

"Right…" she searched for words, smiling to try to lighten the tone and not think about the fact that she was genuinely far more injured that she'd realised, "Makes a bit more sense why everyone's making such a fuss. Sounds like I really did a number on myself when I landed on that tree root."

He wanted to say _you almost died, of course we're all making a fuss,_ but he didn't. He didn't trust that it wouldn't come out sounding just too hurt or _affected_ and he simply didn't want to be interrogated, not when it had been such a lovely night otherwise. He muttered something dismissive instead.

"Yes, quite a number."

Rose stared at him and Scorpius stared at the floor, too afraid that if he looked at her now he'd do something very stupid like beg her never to get hurt again, or throw himself at her feet and latch on to her ankle to ensure she never does anything so stupid as taking on a Chimaera again. Her next words went straight to his heart.

"You really saved my life, didn't you?"

That forced him to snap his head up and hold her gaze. Scorpius considered denying it. He considered laughing at her, telling her she was being overly dramatic and if anything, he just saved her from a minor case hypothermia.

But he doesn't want to.

There's a voice in his head - not his veela, not his conscience, almost a nice blend of both - that tells him he shouldn't hide this from her; she needs to know that he's serious about this. He's serious about her. He saved her and he will continue to save her, to protect her, whenever he can if she promises to do the same; save him from himself, stand by his side, love him even half as much as he's destined to love her in time. The thought is terrifying, has his hands buzzing with an anxiety he thought he'd conquered long ago, but he doesn't run from it. Not now. Not anymore.

"Seemed only fair," he said eventually with something that was the rough approximation of a smile, "You saved mine first. A few times actually. The first and last time I'll be thankful for one of your fucking portkeys."

That caused her face to light up in a genuine smile, some of the tension finally diffusing.

"Can we agree to never get ourselves into situations where either one of us is required to do some life-saving shit, please?" Her tone was light, her eyes were soft, but Scorpius could tell she meant every word. He has never agreed to anything faster.

"Yes," he felt a glowing smile on his face and momentarily hoped that he wasn't actually fucking glowing more than usual, "Agreed."

And then she did something that baffled him - She proudly stuck out her little finger.

"Pinky-swear," she declared adamantly. He couldn't help but let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Pinky-swear? It's official - you're regressing into your five-year-old self."

She glared at him and shook her finger at him, signifying that she wasn't joking. He relented, sighing as if it was physically taxing for him, before linking his pinky finger with hers and shaking once to solidify their deal. Rose smiled with satisfaction when she pulled her hand away, looking like she'd just accomplished something great with their agreement.

He really wanted to hold her. More than ever.

To distract himself from that fucking catastrophic thought and move away from more thoughts of Rose and boathouses, Scorpius clapped his hands together and started formulating a plan, his voice bright and lively once more.

"Right! Well, we both know you're not going to be able to walk the whole way back to the Hospital Wing," he raised an eyebrow at her, "And if you're not open to me carrying you back-"

"Only when I'm both unconscious and bleeding," she specified, crossing her arms as if she was ready to shoot down his proposed plan. Just like always.

"Then we're going to have get creative," Scorpius finished with a shrug.

"The thought of you being creative genuinely terrifies me," her eyes were wide and he briefly wondered what she was imagining he was likely to propose. But when he saw her sway on her feet he remembered that they need to get her back to bed as soon as possible.

"Nothing too scary," his smile grew devious, "But we're probably going to have to break a few rules."

"You say that like we're not doing that right now."

"Technically this isn't rule breaking," he clarified, "It's just ignoring medical advice."

"Which is so much better," she gave him an eye-roll that he definitely deserved.

"Ignoring medical advice is less likely to get us fired."

" _Your plan is likely to get us fired_?!"

"Maybe not fired," he shrugged, "But we'll probably be on detention duty for a year."

She seemed to consider it for a moment, weighing up whether it was a risk she was willing to take. Her breathing was even now that they'd stopped moving, but Scorpius could see that her skin still looked ashen and her eyes still sunken. Taking her extended period of silence as affirmation that she was willing to at least consider his plan (and the prospect of spending a year serving detention with him which was, in a word, fucking thrilling), he held his hand out and commanded loudly:

" _Accio broom!"_

Scorpius watched as understanding and exasperation passed over her face seconds after each other.

"You're not serious," Rose accused, apparently unimpressed with his genius.

"You can't walk, and refuse to be carried," he declared, his face split in a shit-eating grin that he knew annoyed the ever-loving shit out of her, "This seems like a suitable middle ground."

"Flying through the corridors will get us fired," she argued as the distant sound of Scorpius' presumably ridiculously expensive broom slowly approached.

"Only if we get caught," he winked at her. _Winked._ Merlin save him, she was not going to let him get away with that unscathed. He thanked that one distant lucky star of his than Rose didn't force him to vomit slugs or just murder him on the spot. He couldn't decide whether this was proof of their friendship progressing or if she was simply too tired to maim him. Time would tell he supposed.

The whooshing sound grew louder and louder, and Rose braced herself as the wooden projectile came crashing into Scorpius' sure grip. He smiled down at her, proud that he'd managed to catch his broom without losing an arm and looking like a right prat. Rose's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when she noticed the branding.

"Is that _a Nimbus 2001?!_ " She asked, horrified. Scorpius puffed his chest out and turned up his nose.

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that Rose?"

"It's a _relic_ ," she argued, voice stressed and panicked, "That thing is 30 years old!"

"It's not a _thing_ , Rose - it's a classic, fully-restored and entirely functional vintage broom," he knew he sounded like an entitled prick but he didn't care - this broom was a family heirloom and an absolute classic of the broom industry and he simply refused to let her verbally shit on it right in front of him, "It's a collector's item. You're lucky I'm allowing you on it at all."

" _Allowing me_?" She questioned indignantly, "I'm not getting on that thing without a helmet and protective gear."

"Come _on_ , Rose," Scorpius didn't whine. Because Malfoys didn't whine. But they sure as shit got sick of argumentative Weasleys, "This broom is in pristine condition and I'm an incredible flier-"

"Not to mention modest." He ignored her barb and continued.

"-We'll be back at the Hospital Wing in no time. Come on!"

Scorpius threw his leg over and mounted the broom in a smooth movement that had become second nature over the years. He sat, awaiting Rose to jump on behind, when he noticed she wasn't moving. He raised an eyebrow to her and gestured to the back of the broom, but all she did was bite her lip in response.

"It feels wrong," she said, assessing the broom with as much of a critical eye that she could manage when she was so tired, "To get on an ancient broom with my mortal enemy."

"It isn't ancient - it's vintage. And I'm not your mortal enemy," he gave his voice a light edge and tried not to be hurt, "We're friends now."

She snorted at him, "An agreement of friendship doesn't undo a lifetime of hostility - what if this has just all been an elaborate con?"

"You're giving me far too much credit for forward planning that I honestly couldn't be arsed to do," he shot her a quick smile, "Not all of us have hours of time to kill creating and planting portkeys you know; _some_ of us actually have to spend time planning our lessons rather than just looking at stars and winging it."

"Just because I'm tired doesn't mean I can't punch you," she threatened through gritted teeth. It was adorable rather than intimidating. Not that he'd ever let her know that. He simply raised an eyebrow at her and gave a snort.

"I think if you tried to punch me right now you're more likely to miss me, punch the wall, and break your hand," he pointed to the brick wall beside him as if to clarify what he meant when he said 'wall'. Just in case she'd become an idiot in the past 90 seconds, "And I simply can't take you back to the Hospital Wing more broken than I got you."

Rose let out a huff and looked thoroughly unimpressed, "You make me sound like some rented car."

"What the fuck is a car?"

That comment earned him an exaggerated eye-roll but it was accompanied with a smile and a hint of tired fondness when she said, "God you're _such_ a wanker."

"That I am, and _you_ are stalling," he challenged knowingly, "Enough of this trollop - get on the broom."

"Ask nicely," Rose demanded with crossed arms.

"This _is_ asking nicely. I'm not even vaguely threatening you."

"Ask _more_ nicely," she countered. Scorpius engaged her in a terse staring contest, very aware that the more time they spent here the more she would fade right before him - as it were she'd taken to leaning against the wall to keep herself upright. On the one hand, he was very confident he could outlast her, stamina not exactly being a strong suit for her at the moment. On the other, he really just wanted her safely back in bed as soon as possible so his veela could rest. Unwilling to risk her failing health even further, Scorpius let out a sigh and rolled his eyes very dramatically before throwing his arms open in a gesture of inclusion.

" _Rose Rowena Weasley - Astronomy Prodigy and she who smells of stars - I beg of thee, please do me the great honour of perching upon mine humble chariot to allow me the incomparable satisfaction of carrying you to your awaiting bed. My heart weeps in anticipation of your answer_."

Scorpius thought his dramatic on-the-spot monologue deserved far more praise than the glower she gave him.

"One day someone's going to dump your body down a well and it will be entirely your own fault for being such a pompous ass," Rose muttered, voice low and gravelly. He rolled his eyes.

"I know, darling, and I promise I won't even get mad at you for manhandling me when you throw me into the abyss. At least I won't _if_ you shut-up and get on the broom before you collapse."

She blinked at him for several seconds, her mouth opening and closing every few seconds like she was struggling to comprehend something he'd just said. Probably debating which appendage she was going to threaten to remove if he ever told her to shut up again. His patience was wearing thin as he felt his veela pacing at the base of his skull, eager to see Rose resting as soon as possible. She opened her mouth multiple times, still very clearly debating what to say next.

Completely without thinking, Scorpius ducked his head and smiled one of his cheekier grins, his voice dipping lower as he held her gaze and held out his hand.

"What's the matter? Scared, Weasley?"

He watched as something delightful flittered across her face that was gone as soon as it had come, and if it hadn't been for his bird brain he may have missed it entirely. But the feathery mongrel in his head - annoying as it was - picked up on things he couldn't consciously recognise. The little micro emotions, the changes in scent, a rising in temperature. Yes, little bird brain could see things Scorpius simply couldn't, so it came as a beautiful surprise when his veela stopped pacing and murmured:

 _Mate desires us_

Well fuck him sideways. It was a goddam miracle. He just about fell off the broom. Rose was attracted to Scorpius, even for the briefest of moments, and wanted him even a fraction of us much as he wanted her.

Unfortunate side note: Getting an erection on a broom was not ideal. He had to rapidly think of boner-killing imagery to avoid things getting really fucking awkward.

His grandfather in drag.

Dying cats.

Cleaning hippogriff shit.

Charging Peacocks.

Good. Things seemed to be under control now. Thank fuck.

Rose seemed to lose a battle with herself before making a show of pushing his offered hand away to mount the broom a bit less seamlessly than he had done just moments before. Her arms felt tiny as they very delicately wrapped themselves around his middle, touching him as little as possible. And he simply couldn't have that. It was a safety risk, that was all; he needed her to hold him tight, be pressed up against him, just to make sure she didn't fall off. And that was the only reason he let out a chiding hum before pulling her hands more tightly around his waist. Rose did as he indicated and shuffled closer, the heat of her chest emanating against his back. Which was far more physical contact than he was prepared for.

Students with boogers hanging from their nose.

In-grown toenails.

Hector the Asshole pecking his eyes out.

Must. Keep. Body. Under. Control.

As he mentally prepared himself to take off, Rose spoke up behind him, apparently finding her voice again after several moments.

"You called me darling," she said it so quietly that had she not been pressed into his back he wouldn't have heard her. Ah, so that's what caused her brain to malfunction for several minutes. He swallowed heavily and thanked the creators that she couldn't see the panic in his eyes when he responded.

"I've decided that's going to be my nickname for you," he said it with a confidence he did not have.

"I don't agree to it," she fired back. He decided, in the spirit of friendship, he was going to ignore it.

"Well tough shit - I'm going to call you that anyway."

He felt her bristling behind him, stewing in her anger. He'd be a liar if he claimed it wasn't delightful.

"If you're going to called me 'darling'," she said eventually, poking her head over his shoulder to ensure he heard her threat clearly, "I'm going to call you Dickless McGee."

He tried not to notice how close her mouth was, he honestly did, but there he sat - noticing.

"Agreed," Scorpius called her bluff with an easy smile.

"Wait. No I-"

"Nope - it's done, _darling._ Fair's fair," he turned to face the corridor as he prepared to take off and leave this debate right here in their dust, "Now, let's get you back to the Hospital Wing."

Before Rose could utter another argument, he kicked off and started flying down the Hogwarts corridors. He could admit that he had done so with slightly more gumption than he had intended, but when the action had the unexpected, but delightful, side-effect of Rose gripping to him tighter and throwing her face against his shoulder blade, he decided he wasn't going to slow down. She called something out but over the rush of the wind and blood in his ears; he couldn't hear her.

"What?!" He called back over his shoulder. Although he couldn't see her expression, Scorpius would bet a small fortune that she was scowling at him.

" _I said_ we both know you're going faster than necessary," Rose called over the sound of the wind blowing past them as they sped down the corridors.

"Just making sure you're feeling well and truly alive, Rose!" He called back, unable to stop the smile from brightening his face.

"By bringing me closer to death?!" She shrieked, tightening her arms around him when he took a bend particularly quickly. Would it be immoral to spin in circles quickly to make her hold him closer? He was asking for a friend.

Considering she wasn't particularly well at the moment, he resolved to take the bends slower. But only marginally.

If Rose noticed that he was taking the long way back to the Hospital Wing, she didn't mention it. After a few minutes of sweeping in and out of windows, he could hear her laughter bubbling up out of her at his shoulder. She squealed when he rounded a corner, gripped him tightly when he ducked them under a door frame, and exploded into giggles when he did a completely unnecessary but incredibly impressive 360 in the entrance hall. He felt exhilarated. He felt free. He felt alive and ecstatic and so full of _something_ that he was struggling to breathe around his smile and swelling heart. His veela was still fretting about Rose, urging him to get them back to the Hospital Wing as soon as possible, but he could also detect the pride swelling inside it with every laugh Rose let bubble out of her. He could do this for hours.

After rounding a corner in another display of why he was the Slytherin Seeker for four years, Scorpius pulled up to a sudden stop, halting his broom horizontally across a corridor leading to the Hospital Wing.

"What's going o-" Rose poked her head over his shoulder to see the hold up, her eyes widening when she noticed the intrusion, "Oh. Shit."

Scorpius was silent as he looked down at the person who was the cause for their sudden stop. Leon Warthoff, the third year Hufflepuff student who had been serving detention the night of The Incident was standing right in front of them, arms absolutely full to the brim with sweets he'd smuggled out of somewhere.

What happened next was an impasse of sorts.

See, Leon knows he is out after curfew and that he definitely shouldn't be smuggling a veritable feast of sweets into the students sleeping in the Hospital Wing. He also knows that, as a third-year student who has intentions to become a Prefect in fifth year, he should be setting a good example for his fellow students by following the rules as steadfastly and particularly as he can. However, here he is minutes from midnight on a Wednesday night, doing exactly the opposite. It's an action that would warrant another round of detention which he had only just been cleared of given his assistance during the horrific ordeal the previous week, and it would not bode well for his future prospects as Prefect and potentially Head Boy.

But Leon, despite having an appearance that may suggest as much, is not an idiot.

So he also knows that whilst there may not be a defined rule specifying the particulars, he is sure that there would be several people that would be very unimpressed if they knew that two teachers were found riding a broom down the corridors after dark. _Especially_ when those same two teachers had a history of less-than-pleasant run ins and a reputation for doing incredibly stupid and borderline dangerous shit. And _even more so_ when one took into account that one of said teachers was still supposed to be having bedrest in the Hospital Wing. The professors could find themselves in quite a bit of trouble, and neither of them really had enough brownie points to bribe their way out of consequences.

Leon knows this. Scorpius and Rose know this.

Thus, an impasse.

Leon is the first to speak, his pubescent voice breaking in nervousness.

"Ah…good evening Professors," he was smiling but looked like he was trying pretty hard not to make it too obvious, "Fancy seeing you here."

The subtext was clear - _this is not a situation you should be finding yourselves in_.

"Mr. Warthoff," Scorpius greeted with a nod, "What brings you here at this time of night?"

The subtext was also clear here - _it's after curfew and you're breaking the rules._

Leon had the good grace not to try and lie, instead gesturing to the abundance of sweets in his arms.

"Well, I just ducked out to the kitchens to get some snacks while I was writing that essay on Shrinking Solutions due at the end of this week," Scorpius had to admire the kid for shamelessly claiming to have been doing Potions homework. He had to fight the urge to smile at the kid's guts; he would have made a good Slytherin student, "And I thought ' _you know who would appreciate some snacks? Barry and Niko'._ They crashed into each other in flying lessons this morning - did you hear?"

Scorpius guessed that was the two unconscious kids they'd snuck past during their daring escape, meaning Leon's story checked out. At least for now. When he didn't provide any further confirmation, Leon continued.

"So I thought it'd be nice to come and drop them off some snacks so they'd have something good to eat when they woke up," Leon looked around Scorpius and smiled brightly at Rose, "I actually left some toffee at your bedside too, Professor. Thought you might appreciate it instead of soup and sandwiches."

Scorpius could hear the smile in Rose's voice when she replied.

"Thank you, Leon; I love toffee."

"You're welcome ma'am!" He responded joyfully, eyes flitting between the pair of them. Scorpius felt like Leon was laughing at them. He didn't know whether to join in on the hilarity or smack him upside the head.

"I gotta say, when you weren't in bed, I thought you must have been allowed back to your room," Leon looked pointedly at the broom, "But ah, looks like I was mistaken?"

"No, you weren't mistaken," Scorpius said quickly, "Professor Weasley just remembered she'd forgotten something."

"Yes," Rose added with a nod at his shoulder, "My favourite pillow! I can't sleep without it! We're just coming back to grab it. But I'm definitely not supposed to still be in the Hospital Wing."

Merlin Rose was an awful liar. Leon visibly struggled to keep his smile under control.

"Right," Leon's smile broke out of its confinement and spread across his face, "Guess it was lucky Professor Malfoy was nearby when you realised you needed to come and get your pillow, 'ey Professor Weasley?"

 _Oh_.

 _Fuck_.

Scorpius heard himself and Rose floundering and stuttering nonsense syllables for far longer than he was willing to acknowledge before Leon - the beautiful bastard - finally put them out of their misery.

"No one will hear it from me, Professors," he said with far more intensity than the comment probably deserved. Scorpius figured the boy thought himself privy to some grand secret affair that wasn't taking place.

(Yet.)

Damn Hufflepuffs - always finding things they weren't supposed to be able to.

Leon let out an exaggerated and very put-on yawn and started walking in the general direction of the Hufflepuff Common Rooms.

"Well, I better get back to that essay," he shot Scorpius a look like they were part of some grand in-joke, "Night Professors!"

They listened in silence until the sound of Leon's footsteps faded into oblivion. Scorpius hadn't been able to say a thing, too mortified by what just occurred and what repercussions he'd be facing because of it. He felt Rose shuddering behind him and for a few terrifying moments he was sure she was crying.

"Rose-"

She inhaled so violently that it sounded like a screech before she threw her head against his shoulder blades and laughed without abandon.

" _McGonagall's whiskers! We're fucked_!" She cackled between breaths. Scorpius allowed some of the tension to leave his body, his hand coming to rest on her's where it was still clinging to his waist. He laughed lightly, mainly at the inhuman snorting that was evacuating Rose's body as she convulsed with laughter. It was official - she'd gone completely batty. Oh well. When they were both well-rested they could stew in the horror of what a fucking disaster this was. For now, though, he was content to simply find the tiny bit of humour in it and cling to it for dear life.

Scorpius steered them slowly towards the entry of the Hospital Wing, dismounting gracefully before offering to help Rose off. She placed her hands on his shoulders and vaulted herself off, landing a bit awkwardly and forcing him to steady her with a hand on her waist. She took her hands off his person as soon as she was stable, and Scorpius removed his also, immediately missing her touch and warmth.

And that was how Scorpius found himself looking down at Rose Weasley, broom in hand, as she absentmindedly played with the sleeve of her pyjamas with a vibrant smile on her face, and he simply couldn't help but think that it felt a little bit like the end of a date. Wait. Had that been a date? _Was he just on a date with Rose Weasley?_ No, no surely you couldn't be on a date with someone without knowing. They just hung out together. Alone. And argued. And, yes let's be honest, flirted.

Fuck. Maybe that was a date.

And if that was a date, then it was probably totally justified for him to just reach in now and kiss her goodnight. In fact, it felt like he _should_ reach in and kiss her.

No. No, it couldn't have been a date. If it had been a date it would have been pre-planned. It would have had more structure. It would have-

Oh hell, Rose was talking at him.

"-really good to be normal again," she said, smiling up at him a little sheepishly which was an entirely new expression for Rose to show him, "Thanks for breaking me out. I really enjoyed myself. Even if we've just started a rumour that we're having an illicit affair."

Well. _That_ certainly sounded like something someone would say at the end of a date. And if not at the end of one, it was most certainly a perfectly credible segue to an actual date.

"I did too, but I'm fairly sure there's been rumours of our illicit affair for years," he held his breath and risked shooting her a smile before she could argue, "Break you out same time tomorrow?"

His offer clearly took her by surprise; that much was obvious by the way her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock for the slightest moment. He started to fret, worried that he had misinterpreted this whole interaction and she was going to confess that she was lying, that she didn't really enjoy herself, that she's perfectly capable of leaving on her own volition, and-

"That sounds great," Rose's smile turned devious and challenging, "I'll see you tomorrow night Dickless McGee."

He was definitely glowing and he didn't have one single fuck to give.

"Sure thing, _Darling_."

 _It's a date._

* * *

 _A/N: Aaaaand NOW they're getting somewhere!_

 _A Nimbus 2001. 'Scared Weasley?' McGonagall's whiskers - are these all shameless throwbacks? Yes. Will I apologise for them? No! Mwah ha ha._

 _Thanks for reading lovelies. Review makes me happy. Next update won't be happening so quickly, but this story won't be abandoned. And yes, I think it is very reasonable to think that Hermione Granger would give her offspring the middle name of a founding witch that valued intelligence :)_

 _Much love,_

 _Grae xx_


	12. Chapter 12

_Y'all. This chapter is rater 'S' for 'Soft'. Get ready for the cotton candy goodness because this is nothing but fluff._

 _I really struggled to write this chapter. Someone reviewed saying 'I can't wait for their first date' and it made me realise that holy hell, I'd written it so they had to go on their first "date" and it just got caught in my brain for a while. But I'm happy with this. I hope you all are too._

 _Also I'm going to take this opportunity to remind you all that this is a_ _slow burn._ _But man oh man I am desperate for some smut, so I might give y'all a lil unrelated one-shot down the line to help us all get through._

 _Also I am really_ _really_ _going to try to cut down chapter lengths again from here out. Initially I wanted to keep it to 4000-ish words per chapter and now here we are, back at the 12,000 word mark again. Hopefully fewer words per chapter means I can update quicker. I hope you all don't mind._

 _ **A NOTE ON THE ASTRONOMY CLASSROOM**_ _: I've taken liberties with the Astronomy Classroom, the biggest of which is this - in the centre of the room, attached to the ceiling, there will be a type of orb that is enchanted with similar magic to the Great Hall to reflect the starry sky. I figure that this gives them a way to look at constellations and stuff when the weather is bad. This is very important to the next chapter. Also, is this lazy AF world building by just including this in an A/N? Yes. And I apologise for that. Kind of._

 _Now, onto the 'not-necessarily-good-but-better-than-this-big-ass-a/n' stuff._

* * *

 **Chapter 12: A Little Bird Told Me...**

Scorpius had slept like a log. It was fucking delightful.

He had risen feeling refreshed and revitalised and ready to meet the day. His skin was still emitting it's subtle glow but he didn't even care. His hair was still floating in the air around his head but it didn't bother him. His shiny new tattoos glistened in the sunlight as he got dressed and he held absolutely no compulsion to scowl. He'd dressed in some of his more modest clothing (a navy cloak over maroon pants and a crisp white shirt), tied his hair into it's customary bun, and had walked through the Dining Hall at breakfast without a care in the world. He ignored all the weird longing glances he got from students, smirked a little at Leon Warthoff who winked at him, and continued to the teacher's table with a spring in his step. When he took his customary seat at the very end of the table Phillipa was nowhere to be seen and his favourite muesli was in the breakfast spread. It was going to be a wonderful day and there was absolutely nothing that could ruin it.

Except, apparently, the post.

As was customary at breakfast, the owls flew in, creating a flurry of excitement throughout the room. First year Muggles looked on in wonder still, siblings pushed each other out of the way to fight for the delivery from their parents, and the seventh year students grabbed their pumpkin juice to protect it from being spilled in the mayhem. It was always a raucous sight.

In all the excitement, Scorpius also missed the Hogwarts standard owl that was flying directly for him. It was unusual, to say the least, for teachers to receive post with the rest of the peasantry. There may be the odd Christmas card from random family members that didn't realise they should be addressing their letters and packages to the teacher's room number, not simply their name. The poor birds got confused, especially when they weren't used to delivering to the absolute crazy abyss that was Hogwarts. But this wasn't just any bird from any estranged relative - this was a Hogwarts owl. A Hogwarts owl that was delivering something to a teacher during the standard owl post. It was most strange. Why would someone at Hogwarts need to send a letter to someone else at Hogwarts via the owls? It just seemed overly cumbersome. Scorpius could handle strange occurrences; what he could not handle, however, was concerning. And this situation was most concerning, mainly due to the fact that the Hogwarts standard owl in question was flying straight for him.

Scorpius zeroed in on the owl as it flew, ducking dangerously (and unnecessarily) low as it dropped a small letter into his muesli, then continued to fly out of the Dining Hall and back to the Owlery presumably. He looked down at the breakfast-infesting projectile and felt his stomach drop to his feet. There was something about this little letter than made him aware the next few moments of his existence were going to be painful. Because the letter was a deep red tone.

He'd been sent a fucking howler. At breakfast.

The rest of his colleagues had noticed the disturbance even if the children hadn't yet cottoned on, and were trading subtle glances at him. Seated at the left-most seat at the entire teacher's dining table, Scorpius shot a look down the line of teachers to try to see if any of them were the culprits. It had to be someone internal, after all, to be using a Hogwarts owl. From the looks on their faces (ranging broadly from concerned to plain scared) he could surmise that it wasn't anyone here. He had a moment of panic considering it might be Rose. Maybe she'd discovered everything and was going to send him a howler to out him in front of the whole school.

No. No she wouldn't do that. Surely she wouldn't do that. Rose had never used a Howler against him before, probably because she could recognise that it was far too easy a prank to replicate and get back at her in exactly the same way. Besides, as willing at Rose was to berate him in the privacy of the Potions Storeroom, she did generally attempt to not outright brawl with him in full view of the students. Especially not after the talking-to they'd both received from Neville. No, it wasn't Rose.

But who was it?

Scorpius glanced down the row of teachers again and couldn't see anyone missing. Besides Phillipa. Fuck, Phillipa. Was this her confessing her love for him? Had her weird infatuation finally hit peek weirdness and cultivated in a public display of affection by sending a howler at breakfast? Scorpius could acknowledge that the woman was batty, but surely she wasn't _that_ crazy. Maybe he should have a word to Pomfrey about assessing the-

Oh.

Oh ho ho.

He was fairly sure he just solved the riddle.

Pomfrey.

Pomfrey who hadn't liked him since he was conceived it would appear.

Pomfrey, who refused to address him by his correct title and instead treated him like a child.

Pomfrey, who he was sure would be unimpressed to learn he had taken Rose on a little trip last night.

Oh Merlin.

Scorpius began to silently plan his escape to get out of this situation with as much dignity as possible. He knew he could take the letter to his room, that he could make a subtle exit and get down to the dungeons quickly to unwrap it and bear the brunt of the abuse in silence. And that was exactly what he was planning to do, in fact. Until Charlie fucking Butterworth noticed his predicament and announced it to the whole damn hall.

"Professor Malfoy's got a howler!" The brown haired boy announced, standing on the bench to draw even more attention to himself, the idiot, " _Look everyone!_ Professor Malfoy's got a howler."

There was a weird shuffling that seemed to happen all at once, the children stopping their usual chatter to shift their attention to the front of the room. They murmured and giggled, some pointed towards him as their gazes fixed on him.

Scorpius knew he could never seriously maim a child, but looking at Charlie Butterworth and his stupid smug face, he felt closer than he had ever been before to setting someone's seat on fire while they sat in it.

The teachers looked at Scorpius with a mix of pity and embarrassment; some seemed to be considered ways to help him, others seemed to shrug at him in a half-apologetic gesture. Scorpius glowered out at the students, trying to determine what he was going to do about this royal cock-up of a situation. He didn't want to walk out now - there was something about doing so that would make him appear weak, afraid. And if there was one thing in this world that he absolutely needed to stop at all costs, it was the students thinking he was capable of feeling fear. It would ruin his reputation - which was already under threat of being thoroughly destroyed with the last few weeks' events. No. He had to open his letter right here and just pray to any heavenly creature in existence that his fate be swift and merciful.

Scorpius took a steadying breath before calmly opening the Howler.

It burst into animation automatically, Pomfrey's shrill screeching (seriously, it would damage the hearing of dogs - those decibels weren't natural for a human. His veela hissed) filled the otherwise silent space of the Dining Hall.

"SCORPIUS MALFOY! IT IS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU IGNORE MY MEDICAL ADVICE AND _REFUSE_ TO BE TREATED, BUT TO _CORRUPT_ MISS WEASLEY AND _KIDNAP HER_ FROM THE HOSPITAL WING WAS _ASTRONOMICALLY_ IRRESPONSIBLE AND _DANGEROUS!_ SHE IS _INJURED_ AND TO TAKE HER FROM HER BED SO YOU CAN _'GO FOR AN ADVENTURE'_ IS INEXCUSABLE BEHAVIOUR. I HAVE REPORTED YOU TO THE HEAD MASTER SO YOU CAN EXPECT RETRIBUTION IN IT'S FOULEST FORM. YOU ARE HEREBY _BANNED_ FROM THE HOSPITAL you become injured or unwell. In which case I will be contractually obligated to assist you. BUT I SHAN'T BE HAPPY ABOUT IT. !"

Scorpius watched as the letter tore itself to shreds - landing in his oatmeal - as a hush fell over the room, the students and staff watching on with a mixture of horror and awe. It wasn't every day that a teacher got berated in such a public display, especially for going on a not-date with another teacher. There were a number of very sensible, face-saving, shame-accepting ways to deal with this situation he was sure. Unfortunately, Pomfrey seemed to have underestimated Scorpius' ability to be a self-righteous prick. If they were playing Wizard's chess, Pomfrey would have effectively just put him into check. He didn't intend to stay there. Scorpius smiled like he owned the whole fucking school and then, very calmly, scooped up a spoonful of howler-covered muesli and fucking ate it.

 _Check. Mate._

The students erupted. Absolute pandemonium of cheers and wolf whistles and laughter. Charlie Butterworth called him ' _hecking mental',_ Leon Warthog cheered particularly loudly, and there were some Ravenclaw girls that smiled and swooned over how romantic it was. Which he didn't understand - he was forcing down paper-covered muesli because he was such a petty prick. How was that romantic?

Scorpius noticed a number of his colleagues trying quite poorly to disguise the way they were snickering into their respective breakfasts, with the notable exception of Neville Longbottom who just looked especially exacerbated. Probably knew he'd have to have a conversation with an angry Pomfrey. Scorpius raised his glass at him in a sort-of apologetic gesture before continuing to chow down on his paper muesli.

It was still going to be a fucking wonderful day.

* * *

It wasn't until he was looking at the open landscape of the Astronomy Tower, the site of what was going to be his first kind of official date with Rose, that Scorpius realised a key piece of information he had neglected to consider prior to now: he had no fucking idea how to date.

Scorpius didn't _do_ dating. He was always a bit paranoid that his biology would mean that women would fall hopelessly in love with him basically upon seeing him and things would therefore get a bit messy. He'd never had a particularly active sex-drive, which he had always assumed was because he had been taking a suppressant designed to kill off the part of his brain that felt attraction and desire. He hadn't had a girlfriend since sixth year. All of his encounters with females since had been physical in nature only, and explicitly temporary. He'd never even had a consistent friend with benefits. He wasn't sure what one was supposed to do when you were having an unofficial sort-of-date with someone.

He was pretty sure there should be food. He was almost certain there should be some sort of food. Especially for Weasley, who seemed determined to try to fill her body with as many carbs as humanly possible at almost every meal. So during a break between classes, he found himself negotiating some extra snacks with one of the house elves in the kitchen.

It scared him how easily he recounted her favourite snacks. Seriously, when had all of this information found it's way into her brain.

 _We've always known how to look after mate_

He could feel his veela puffing out his chest and beaming with pride. What a conceited dick.

"If Professor Malfoy is intending to take this foods to Professor Weasley, we would recommend the raspberry jam, as it is her favourite."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow at the crinkly old house elf who'd spoken and felt himself blush. He reacted quickly as a knee-jerk reaction. Which was - be a dick.

"I'm interested to know why you would presume that this is who I'm requesting food for," his tone was clipped and very clearly annoyed. The elf damn near crumbled in fear. He would be lying if he pretending it didn't make him feel a little bit gratified.

"We only mean to help!" The tiny little creature sputtered, eyes on the ground and demeanour meek as it fell into a bow, "We mean no offence!"

Scorpius was tempted to continue being an asshole - it was, after all, his default setting- but there was something about the creature literally cowering at his feet that made him feel a bit disgusted in himself. Rose wouldn't approve. He was better than this.

With a heavy sigh and an exaggerated eye roll that was lost on everyone because there wasn't a single creature in the room game to look directly at him, Scorpius commanded him to stand up.

"Get up, please, it's embarrassing" the elf peeked up at him and straightened slightly but still looked uneasy, "I appreciate your assistance. And though I will not confirm or deny these are for Professor Weasley, I will take that raspberry jam. Thank-you."

He added the gratitude as an afterthought. The house elf seemed appeased, and scurried off to make suitable arrangements for the food to be sent up to the Astronomy Tower later that evening.

First he was being kind to Gryffindor Seekers, now he was kind to house elves. Merlin this 'pursuing Rose' business was having irredeemable repercussions on his entire demeanour.

The thought made him smile as he made his way back to the dungeons, heart rate fluttering and hands tingling at the prospect of seeing her tonight.

He reconciled that it was a small price to pay if this all worked out as well as the journals indicated it would.

* * *

The next snag for _The Date_ , came when he went to pick Weasley up. Scorpius strolled down the darkened corridors after curfew, a spring in his step as he had to consciously stop himself from running or skipping in his excitement.

It was just embarrassing.

Malfoy men strode. Malfoy men sauntered. Malfoy men stalked.

Malfoy men did not _skip_.

This bird was making him goddam mental. It had already caused an uproar by expressing it's disapproval at Scorpius wearing a shirt to his date. He had felt it pacing and bristling, finding himself fighting the urge to break out his wings (which he still wasn't even sure how to do consciously)

 _Must show Mate_ , the bird brain had implored, _Show her our wings_

"And why the fuck would we do that?" Scorpius had asked aloud to his empty bed room, making him feel like a right idiot, "So we can terrify her? Show her that we're some sort of…" he refused to say beast lest it start tearing him apart from the inside, "non-human?"

The bird brain seemed displeased at the implication regardless, a little offended if he had to guess. It was an odd sensation, feeling emotions that weren't actually his; and they seemed to be getting stronger each day. The thoughts were clearer, the urges more deliberate, the feelings more palpable. Scorpius didn't like it one bit. Which he imagined, regrettably later than he would have liked, his veela could also pick up on. His veela probably wasn't paying too much attention to that at all at the moment, far too preoccupied causing a fuss over the legitimacy of rocking up to his first kind of date with Rose sans shirt and with _fucking wings._

 _Mate will love them. See we can care for her. See we can protect her._

The next words were out of his mouth before he really had time to process as he tugged on a more comfortable and dressed down pair of slacks, "Rose Weasley is perfectly capable of protecting herself and I think she'd find the inference that she isn't very insulting."

The statement shocked him for two reasons - the first, he was saying something nice about Rose, and two, he knew something about her his loved up bird didn't.

Merlin, he really didn't do it consciously. Maybe he was more swept up in her than he realised. (He still refused to acknowledge that he and Rose had been flirting all those years like his parents insisted, if for no other reason than his parents being the ones to suggest it)

The bird wasn't exactly appeased, but it did stop insisting to bust out the feathers and Scorpius no longer felt weird urges to flex an appendage he didn't really have. All this veela business was incredibly weird. If he thought about it too long it gave him a headache. To avoid lingering thoughts of madness and feathers, Scorpius had exited his room and hurried to the Hospital Wing doing his _not at all a prance-skip combo_.

And that's when he hit trouble.

Sitting out the front of the Hospital Wing in a rocking chair that looked as old as Hogwarts itself, was a knitting Madam Pomfrey. He couldn't tell, but she may have been constructing a noose. And it absolutely wasn't hysteria that told him so. This was just ridiculous. He was sure she was sat out the front waiting for him like some paranoid lunatic, expecting him to come back to see Rose under the cover of darkness when she sent him that damn embarrassing howler this morning.

Which, yes he was doing, but she should think better of him than to expect it.

Scorpius scurried behind the corner and out of sight once more, cursing under his breath and trying to consider his options. He could just walk away. He could send Rose an owl say ' _Hey Pomfrey is guarding the front door. I didn't want to cause a fuss. I'll see you when you're released_ '. That was a perfectly valid option. In fact, it was probably the _most_ valid option. Certainly the most sensible. There was a dignity and grace to it that was very becoming and would signify that he was growing as a human and knew where the line was and not to cross it.

He absolutely wasn't taking that option.

Scorpius smirked to himself thinking of all the bits of howler he'd had to floss out of his teeth after breakfast this morning and felt a new burst of determination. Pomfrey thought she could stop him with a few loud words and blocking an entrance? Ha! It was like she didn't know him at all.

It seemed he was just going to have to get creative.

* * *

Things he didn't consider when devising his brilliant plan - it was fucking freezing out here. Scotland wasn't know for it's warm _anything_ and it was holding true to it's reputation with the icy winds he was currently navigating. Oh well - he guessed Rose would just have to hold him a little tighter for warmth. There were worse things.

Scorpius cast another quick warming charm over himself ( _and yes, it was sloppy at best and he was sure Weasley would point it out as soon as possible_ ), and directed his beloved Nimbus around the side of the building. Did he feel slightly creepy flying past each window of the Hospital Wing until he could peer in and make out Rose's body? Yes, absolutely. Was that going to stop his plan? No, absolutely not.

Eventually he found the right window, making out a blur of orange even in the dim candlelight of the Hospital Wing that could be nothing _but_ Weasley-hair and tried to make sure his own hair was looking nice-ish considering he was currently flying in winds that could freeze a dragon's bollocks off.

" _Weasley!_ " Scorpius whispered as loudly as he was willing to as he tapped on her window, "Weasley! Get up!"

He couldn't clearly make out her facial expression in the darkness and through the frosting over the glass, but he was willing to bet he'd caught her somewhat by surprise. When the window finally opened, her face was an adorable cross between stunned and terrified.

"Scorpius!" She scolded in a quiet tone, assessing him where he floated, "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Pomfrey's guarding the door like a goddam dragon," he grinned at her and his ingenuity, "I had to improvise."

"Improvise?" She seemed to scan him for instruments or equipment, then looked back to his face, "What are you improvising?"

He couldn't suppress his grin, "How I'm going to smuggle you out."

"Well, what's your plan?"

"You're looking at it."

"I'm looking a-?" Realisation dawned across her features which lit up in horror, "You think I'm climbing out a window to get onto your broom? _That's_ your plan?!"

"Sure is!" He gave a shrug that was far too casual for their discussion. He couldn't help it though - he felt elated just at the sight of her face. Even if said face was looking at him like he was a crazy person, "It'll be just like last night."

"It's nothing like last night," Rose hissed in an indignant protest, "You're asking me to _jump out a window_ and let you go flying off into the night. That's not a plan."

"It is a plan."

"It's a shit plan."

"It's a great plan."

"The last time you went flying at night you crash landed in my tower," she argued fervently, but she was still standing at the window. He took this as an encouraging sign, "There is no way I'm getting on that ancient artefact with you out here in the dark."

"I am willing to forgo the personal insult of having to argue the structural stability and cultural relevance of this beautiful piece of engineering," he gestured to his beloved Nimbus before continuing, "If you are willing to stop arguing and get on the broom."

"Scorpius," she dragged his name out in a whine and it did things to parts of his anatomy that it really shouldn't because it was goddam dangerous at this height, "Surely there has to be a better option."

"Do you want to go and try to sneak past an angry Pomfrey?" He watched her shudder at the prospect, "I didn't think so. This is our only option."

Rose looked at him, then back into the darkness of her hospital room-come-prison cell. He could see the trepidation in her features. He was losing her. He didn't want to lose her.

"Maybe I…" she sighed heavily, looking defeated, "Maybe I should just stay here."

"Stay here?!" Scorpius didn't sound hysterical. Not at all. His veela, however, was almost howling at the prospect as he reasoned with her a touch desperately, "Rose, you're not a prisoner. You're allowed to leave when you want to."

"Well evidently I'm not," he could feel her frustration radiating off her in waves. She took a steadying breath and gave him a sad sort of a smile, "Pomfrey only wants whats best for me. Maybe I should do as she instructed and just stay in bed."

No. No, no, _no._ He wouldn't have it. Pomfrey may be medically trained but that didn't give her permission to start acting like some prison warden. Rose should be allowed to leave if she wanted to. And despite her reluctance to jump out a window onto a broom a few stories off the ground, he was sure she wanted to. He could feel it. She did alright last night apart from staying out too late, and he's sure that without the walk there to tire her out, that they could both make it through the evening without collapsing. Scorpius was determined; this kind-of date was going to happen. It appeared he was just going to have to be a bit of a manipulative asshole to make it so. Luckily, he had a wealth of experience in that area.

"Come on, Weasley," Scorpius adopted a teasing tone he knew she hated, and saw the way her gaze hardened at it, "Where's that Gryffindor courage you're always boasting about?"

She sniffed indignantly and crossed her arms.

"I'm quite sure I've never boasted about having courage, Malfoy."

He looked at her with a deadpan expression, "You've literally brought it up in every conversation we have about Quidditch."

"Quidditch doesn't count!" She fired back, leaning out the window so she could argue with him properly. Maybe if he riled her up a little more she'd jump out just to strangle him.

"Of _course_ Quidditch counts," he implored, pulling in closer to the side of the castle. She didn't pull back, which meant they were eye to eye and much closer than they had ever been before when there wasn't the threat of limbs being lost. It made him feel a little light-headed, which was admittedly probably just as dangerous at this height as getting an erection. Scorpius didn't let it distract him from going in for the metaphorical kill though.

"I think you just need to face facts," his grin was wicked and he delighted in the way her eyes dropped to him mouth for a second, "You're just too _scared_."

Rose's entire body seemed to inflate with the deep breath she took in, her face hardening as she marinated in her anger.

"I am _not_ scared."

"You are," his smile only broadened, "You are terrified that Pomfrey will find out and you'll get in trouble like some sneaky second year."

She fidgeted with her sleeve but remained defiant.

"Neville's already angry with both of us after the Flubberworm incident," she tried to justify, to him or to herself she wasn't sure.

"Neville was blubbering mess after The Chimaera Incident," Man, they had a lot of 'Incidents'. Scorpius wasn't sure whether to be ashamed or proud, "I bet you could set his sweater vest on fire _while he was wearing it_ and he'd apologise to you. He isn't going to care."

She looked put out for a moment, "I would never set his vest on fire…"

"Stop deflecting," Scorpius called Rose on her bullshit and she had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed to be caught so easily, "You're bored shitless in that tiny prison, you've got no other escape route, and there are scones waiting in the Astronomy Tower for us. Stop being a coward, and get on the broom."

Her eyes lit up, "There are scones?"

It was like he'd just announced they were going to be entertained by dancing unicorns, her tone was so awe-struck and hopeful. He let out a laugh and matched her hopeful expression with one of his own.

"There are scones," Scorpius confirmed, his voice getting softer and his gaze growing warmer. Maybe intimidation wasn't the way forward. Maybe he could try being…well… _nice._

"You don't have anything to be scared of, Rose," Scorpius couldn't remember when he'd used this tone with anyone else. This gentle, caring tone that felt like it was made for whispering sweet nothings and making grandiose promises in the dark, "Pomfrey won't find out. Neville won't be mad. And I'm not going to crash us into a building."

She held his gaze and he wondered if it would help or hinder his case if he reached forward and kissed her now. Because he wanted to. _Oh Merlin_ how he wanted to. And based on the way she bit her lip and held her breath, he had a sneaking suspicion she'd let him. She might slap him right afterwards, but she'd at least let him kiss her first. Scorpius stayed where he was though. He might have been brave enough to whisk Rose out a window and off into the night, but he was not brave enough to kiss her yet.

She let out a sigh before glancing down at the bushes and brush a few stories below them. She swallowed audibly at the distance.

"I still have to jump out a window."

"You have to _step_ out a window," he amended gently.

He watched as Rose started to heighten and spiral with a barrage of panicked thoughts, her wide eyes boring into his.

"I have to climb out a window, and what if I slip, and what if I fall, and those bushes don't exactly look soft and what if I break my-"

"I'll catch you Rose."

There was a stillness between them and heaviness in his statement that he wasn't willing to analyse. He saw it though, the way it affected her, the way she knew he was talking about more than just their midnight escape. If she was brave enough to do this, to come to him, he won't let her go. Scorpius expected his heart to be beating wildly, for it to be trying to burst out of his chest and to feel a surge of anxiety at the seriousness of the moment they were experiencing. But instead, there was only a stillness; a calm like he'd never known.

Scorpius Malfoy was accepting his fate. And his veela kept him calm through it all.

Maybe he owed it more than he acknowledged.

Scorpius didn't know whether he repeated himself for her benefit or for his, but regardless, he smiled softly at her and held out a hand as he promised, "I will catch you."

Rose let out a heavy breath and he watched with anticipation as she made up her mind. She shuffled closer to the window and stepped onto the chair to get a boost to the window ledge.

"If there's no scones I'm going to murder you," she murmured as she ducked to fit herself into the opening of the window, the night breeze whipping her hair around her face.

"Hurry up and jump, you nufty, I'm freezing my bollocks off out here."

"Ah, so you admit it _is_ a jump!"

"I'll admit whatever you want if it makes you move faster."

Rose moved as close to the edge as possible and Scorpius made sure he was practically wedged against the side of the building. Honestly, Rose would have to make a concentrated effort to fuck up spectacularly to miss the broom at this range, but stranger things had happened. So of course it was absolutely imperative for him to hold her hand where it grasped his shoulder as she prepared to make her (not so) great escape. With the grace of a beached whale, Rose shifted off the ledge and landed on the broom, her arms gripping him tighter than he thought humanly possible to ensure she didn't plunge to her doom.

It was quite nice, really.

"Look at you go, you little criminal!" He crowed proudly, which earned him a gentle elbow nudge to the kidney.

"Oh shut up," she muttered, her face practically cemented in between his shoulder blades.

That was quite nice too.

"Hold on properly, Rose," he instructed, feeling a happy fluttering at the base of his skull as she wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled herself against his back just like last night, "Our scones await!"

* * *

Scorpius hadn't tempted his fate and done any acrobatic flying (even though it was incredibly tempting to show off in front of her. He couldn't determine whether it was because of his veela or because he was just a bit of an arrogant asshole), and had instead flown them directly to the Astronomy Tower. He made a show of landing them incredibly gently as if to signify that the last time he'd come to a halt here was definitely a once off. He was fairly sure he heard her scoff over his shoulder as they touched down.

Rose hopped off first, bouncing excitedly on her feet to be back in her classroom again. He watched her flitter around her space and felt a warm sort of affection bloom in his chest.

Fuck he had it bad. He had it really bad.

His veela was calmed by her presence and he could feel it wanting to dance around with her. Scorpius forced it back to the base of his skull again - he'd already skipped today, there would be absolutely no dancing of any kind.

Rose looked a bit different tonight, and it took him a moment to realise why. He rested his Nimbus against the wall and started to move towards where he'd set up their food, trying to look at her as discretely as possible as she spoke to her books ( _Merlin she was batty_ ) and ran her fingers along the old school telescopes pushed against a far wall. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"No Duckie pyjamas tonight?" He said with a smile as he started pouring them cups of tea, "I'm disappointed."

Rose walked over to the table to take a seat, pushing a stray curl behind her ear as she muttered, "After all your merciless teasing last night I thought I'd better look more respectable."

Two realisations crossed Scorpius' mind in quick succession:

1\. That was why Rose looked different - her hair was more orderly and contained, her clothes, while casual, were definitely nice, and if he stared at her intently enough (which he did) he was able to make out that she had put on at least mascara, and maybe some other form of makeup he hadn't the knowledge to describe. She wasn't dressed in 'workwear' necessarily, but it was obvious she had put some effort into her appearance.

2\. Rose Weasley was blushing.

Well fuck him sideways.

It appeared Rose Weasley - Rose unattainable Weasley who hated him with every fibre of her being - dressed up to see him tonight. It was probably just because she was getting out of the Hospital Wing and therefore she felt like acting like her normal self again. It probably had absolutely nothing to do with him at all. Regardless, the realisation was probably causing him to glow. And he was ok with that.

Scorpius decided it would probably be safer for the both of them if he played it safe and normal by teasing her like they were both used to. At least until he'd buttered her up with scones.

"Bold of you to assume I'd find this respectable."

The glare she shot him indicated he was not being as charmingly cheeky as he had intended.

"Remind me why I've agreed to be friends with you?" She asked, a thinly veiled threat. Scorpius gestured to the table in front of him in an elaborate flourish.

"Because I bring you scones?"

That seemed to appease her and he watched as some of the tension seeped out of her stance as she shifted her gaze from his face to the heavenly smelling scones sitting on the table. Her eyes filled with warmth and he guessed she was restraining herself from licking her lips.

His veela puffed it's chest out proudly at having provided for her so suitably.

They took seats across from each other and began filling their plates. It was that exact moment that Scorpius realised this was were the 'date stuff' was supposed to take place.

And he had no goddam idea where to start. He took a large bite of a scone to distract himself. After several moments of both of them trying to look anywhere but each other and making concentrated efforts to eat as quietly as possible, Scorpius relented and attempted to make conversation.

"So," he filled the silence a touch awkwardly, wholly unprepared for date-like chit-chat, "Was Pomfrey angry at you when you returned last night?"

"Last night?" Rose shook her head around a mouthful of scone, "No, I didn't see her. She was grumpy with me at lunch time though. I forgot to bin the note you left - I think she saw it this morning while I was sleeping."

His response was quick and effortless while he coated jam onto the baked good with enthusiasm, "She did."

She quirked her head to the side, "How do you know?"

"She sent me a Howler."

There was a clattering and a gasp as Rose dropped her scone and knife to stare at him with mouth wide open. Partly-chewed food and all. It was horrendous. His mother would have had a conniption.

He found it weirdly endearing.

"No," Rose finally gasped, horrified.

"Yes," somehow, her distress just made him smile, "Got it at breakfast."

" _No_." This time her response was more pained. It just made him want to laugh.

" _Yes_ ," he reiterated, drawing out her discomfort by taking a bite and swallowing before continuing, "Good news is that Warthoff can't blackmail either of us now - the entire school is convinced we're madly in love and I'm smuggling you out every night to have my wicked way with you in the dungeons."

And for the third time Rose said " _NO_."

And for the third time Scorpius responded "Yes."

"Well what did it say?!" She exclaimed, scone abandoned in her distress.

"Well I can't remember the exact phrasing, but it went something along the lines of…" Scorpius cleared his throat and adopted a high-pitched, nasal shriek in his best imitation of Pomfrey, " _SCORPIUS MALFOY!_ _How dare you CORRUPT Professor Weasley!"_

"She didn't say corrupt!" Rose gasped, horrified.

" _To kidnap her from the Hospital wing was ASTRONOMICALLY stupid and DANGEROUS!"_

"She said you kidnapped me?! _"_

" _To take her from her bed-!"_

"Oh fuck me, she didn't."

"She absolutely did. _To take her from her bed so you can GO FOR AN ADVENTURE is inexcusable behaviour!"_

"Merlin Almighty we are never going to live this down."

" _I have reported you to the Headmaster so you can expect retribution in the FOULEST FORM. You are hereby BANNED FROM THE HOSPITAL WING! Unless you have an injury, then I shall treat you, BUT I SHAN'T BE HAPPY ABOUT IT!"_

By the time he'd finished his rendition Rose had both her arms covering her eyes and was muttering in dismay and embarrassment. He was relieved to hear her distressed mutterings were interspersed with laughter.

"This is _the worst_ ," she groaned, dragging out the last word to display her torment. Scorpius feigned agreement as he took a sip of tea.

"The whole school is convinced we're having an affair," he smirked at her, "You should have seen Neville's face."

" _Neville_ heard?!" Rose sunk down into her chair, "God I'm not going to be able to look him in the eye again."

"I don't think he'll be able to look you in the eye again either - should make your future meetings quite humorous."

"Glad to see you think this is all very amusing."

"The trick is that you have to pretend it doesn't phase you," he explained with a smile and a shrug while he went in for his second scone, "Then eventually, you'll even have yourself convinced. Besides, there are worse things than the entire school community thinking we're dating."

She was blushing again and he had to kick his own shin to stop himself from grinning too broadly.

"The entire school community," she repeated in an awed kind of horror, "What are the children going to say?"

"Well I don't know the particulars about what all the students have taken away from it," Scorpius tried not to let his grin crack through as he explained, "All I know is that there's a bunch of fifth year Ravenclaw girls who think we are - and I'm quoting here - ' _relationship goals_ '."

"We're not relationship anything."

There was a quick pang in his chest that hurt more than he wanted to admit it did. He covered it with a quick retort.

"A friendship is a relationship. We're friendship goals."

Rose snorted, "We've been civil to each other for a week."

"Yes, but it's been a great week."

This time she crossed her arms in judgement, "We both almost died."

His grin was boyish and proud when he responded (he hoped), "Yes, but the power of our friendship saved us."

"Magic saved us."

"And our need to make amends and be good friends," he straightened at his own genius, "Look - I'm so happy I'm rhyming."

That gave her pause. She stopped buttering up her next scone and instead just looked at him blankly for a number of moments, blinking slowly and assessing him like he'd said something mad. He tried not fidget under his gaze.

"You're…happy?" She eventually questioned, her voice tainted with a light concern.

"Of course I am. Look," Scorpius gestured to his face and showed off his perfectly polished teeth, "This is almost a real smile."

"But you're happy…" she seemed to consider her next words like they were in a different language she wasn't wholly familiar with, "around…me?"

Happy wasn't really the right word. _Giddy_ was a more apt description he felt, given how his body thrummed with new energy and his blood pumped faster with a desire to reach out and touch her. But he couldn't very well say that, now could he.

"You've always made me happy Rose," Scorpius eventually said instead with a shrug. Her response was instant and indignant.

" _Bull. Fucking. Shit_."

"You have!" Scorpius tried not to grin, he really _really_ did but it was so very difficult when she was looking at him like that, "You've always made me laugh."

"No, you've always laughed _at_ me," he suspected she would have poked him in the chest has she not been making tea and attempting this level of civility, "There's a difference."

"Pfft. Semantics!" He brushed it aside with a wave of his hand before placing a strawberry macaron on her plate as a symbol of peace, "The point is I am genuinely happy now. Aren't you?" He held his breath and hoped she didn't notice.

"I…am?" He tried not to be supremely wounded by the fact that she said it as if it was a question.

"Wow. So convincing." He failed at not being wounded.

Rose was quick to jump in and make amends, "No I mean it - I am. Which is…" she searched for the right words, "Really strange."

Baby steps, he told himself, this was a big change for her. He had to be delicate. He adapted a lightly inquisitive tone when he questioned her.

"How is it strange?"

"I'm not meant to be happy around you."

"Says who?"

"History."

Scorpius scoffed, "History is overrated. Easily the worst subject at school."

"Even worse than Astronomy?" She asked, eyebrow raised to dare him to challenge her.

"I don't know. It's a close call," suddenly inspired, he gestured to the beautiful golden telescope she had cooed over last time (her _baby,_ Asteria), "Convince me."

"What?"

Scorpius stood from his seat, dusting his fingers off on his pants (his mother would have sworn at him) and walked over towards where Asteria sat in the corner, shooting her a smile over his shoulder.

"Convince me that Astronomy is worth my time. Teach me to love the stars as much as you do."

"Well no one loves the stars as much as _I_ do," Rose rolled her eyes and looked in her lap, the closest to 'bashful' he'd ever witnessed. It was torturously adorable. If she kept doing shit like that he was a goner.

(Like he already wasn't)

Scorpius leant against the telescope, relieved when it didn't move under his weight, and cocked an eyebrow at her, "Try to make me a close second."

"I can't."

"Come on, don't quit on me now Rose."

"No I mean I literally can't," she pointed to the sky out the windows, "It's too cloudy."

He thought for a moment, then looked at the large intricate orb in the centre of the ceiling currently displaying the solar system rotating. He remembered it from his days as a student - a fake milky way to use as reference when the skies weren't cooperating. It was controlled by the teacher and used similar charms to the fake the sky in the Great Hall. Not ideal, certainly not a substitute for assessing the skies directly, but it would do when times were tough. And these times weren't not tough.

Scorpius would have Rose Weasley teach him about stars or he would have death. And he felt no compulsion to die today.

"Well what's this bloody great orb for then?" He asked bluntly.

"It's for when the sky is too cloudy," Rose muttered, still sounding a bit like she couldn't quite believe this conversation was happening.

"Well then we can just use this!"

Scorpius got down on the floor underneath it and reclined comfortably, summoning a pillow to place under his head as he waited for her to follow.

She didn't follow.

It made his breath catch in his throat and his anxiety start to rise. The veela started fretting.

"Come on Rose!" Scorpius aimed for 'jovial chiding' and not 'desperate pleading' when he patted the space next to him, "We haven't got all night."

Her forehead was furrowed in deep thought and she was looking at him like he was some kind of complex puzzle.

"You're tricking me aren't you?" She eventually said, voice cautious, "You're just teasing me. This is a joke, right?"

"Absolutely not. I've always thought Astronomy shouldn't be a real subject - I'm inviting you to try and prove me wrong."

Scorpius was delighted to watch the pure enthusiasm and excitement bloom over her face in a matter of seconds. She let out an excited squeal and ran very quickly in the opposite direction.

"Rose?"

" _I'm getting blankets!"_ She called from the backroom she'd disappeared into, " _And pillows! And charts! We need charts if we're going to do this properly!"_

Appears he'd just signed himself up for his own personal late night astronomy session. This is what happened when you didn't date, he thought to himself ruefully, you wound up setting yourself up for a fucking lecture because you were so inept of making casual smalltalk. He really cursed his past self for thinking any of this was a good idea. Scorpius' affections for Rose aside, he honestly, truly did not enjoy astronomy. He dropped it as soon as he was allowed to during school and he had never tried to pick it up as a hobby. And here he was, about to be subjected to a detailed description of the stars by someone who could talk about each little speck for hours on end. He was probably going to hate it.

"Out of the way Malfoy! I may not be _respectable_ by your standards but even my pants deserve not to pick up whatever has been cemented into these floors for the past 400 years or so."

Scorpius looked up at where Rose stood above him, arms absolutely filled to the brim with an array of pillows, blankets and charts sticking out of the back of her jeans because she'd run out of hands. She was rocking with enthusiasm and he could see the halo created by the candlelight behind her bobbing with every excited jiggle she made.

He probably wasn't going to hate it after all.

Scorpius stood with some effort and helped Rose place an array of pillows and blankets on the floor so they could comfortably sit down and look up at the orb like they were gazing at the real sky. She spread the star maps and charts out around them like they were doing some kind of ritual, babbling - mostly to herself - about each of them as she did. She flicked her wand at the orb and it started changing colours, the planets fading away until nothing but stars appeared.

"We'll start with constellations!" Rose said excitedly as she dropped into a cross-legged position with what was, frankly, a stunning amount of finesse for someone who looked as coordinated as a one-legged troll getting onto his broom earlier, "If I can't make you love stars then there's no hope for you!"

Scorpius was quite sure she could make him love treacle enemas if she tried hard enough.

He sat down beside her, not too close as to cause alarm, but certainly closer than they'd probably allow students. He casually reclined back to rest his weight on his hands, and if his head just so happened to lean in her direction, well that was just so he could see stars better.

"So as you can see here," she pointed to a particularly bright spot in the galaxy above them and thrust a star map at him, "This here is Alpha Canis Majoris, or Sirius, the brightest star in the sky!"

They sat there for hours. Eventually they were both lying down next to each other, with Rose only shifting to a sitting position to reach the next piece of parchment she wanted him to read as she taught him all things astronomy. Scorpius watched her, enraptured as she spoke about the stars with such an apparent love that he found himself incapable of looking away. Every little speck had a story, which she knew by heart and recalled lovingly. She would point and explain the intricacies of each tiny blip, why it was important, how to use it. Scorpius realised, as she was on her third minute talking about the Cassiopeia constellation, that Rose Weasley would be a very easy person to fall in love with. With her bright eyes and her beautiful smile and her love of life in even it's smallest details, she was the sort of woman just about any person could love if they tried.

Scorpius didn't think he'd have to try very hard.

"Aaaaaaand there it is!" She'd adjusted the vision in the orb and pointed at a collection of stars he supposed were meant to be more interesting than the others. They did not appear to be more or less significant than any of the other glittering spots in any way.

"What am I looking at?" He questioned, trying his best not to sound disinterested.

"That's you," she said plainly. He turned his attention back to her face, his eyebrow raised in question.

"That's the Scorpius constellation," Rose said as way of explanation, her cheeks flushing a little at the admission.

Well.

Now he wasn't trying at all. And yet continue to fall, he did.

Rose looked away from him, gesturing into the artificial night sky vaguely, her voice a little less excited and a little more shy than it had been moments earlier.

"We wouldn't be able to see it in the sky even if there weren't any clouds," she went on to explain, "It's not visible in the northern hemisphere past September. But that's where it is, every year during July and August," she let out a laugh and smiled to herself, "I always see it and feel like you're stalking me - it's the two months of the year when I am free of Scorpius Malfoy and your constellation comes out to look at me every night instead."

Scorpius' heart was in his throat.

He was going to kiss her. He was going to lean over and kiss her and tell her absolutely everything because Rose Weasley saw him in the stars and he was starting to realise that he sort of saw her there too. He was going to wrap his hand in her hair and he was going to hold her close and he was going to tell her that he'd catch her, he'd _always_ catch her, and he was going to beg her to be his forever.

 _Yes, hold mate close. Hold mate close for always._

His veela's voice at the back of his head brought him back to his senses. He couldn't do that, not yet, not when he knew the repercussions would be very serious. They still had a long way to go to repair their frayed relationship, he didn't want to balls it up by making a move too quickly and having to explain why he was suddenly sprouting wings or something. He had no idea how his veela would react to the feel of Rose pressed against him, and he really didn't think he had enough good rapport with her just yet for that not to be an issue.

Scorpius cleared his throat and tried to distract himself by gesturing to the artificial sky before them as he desperately hoped she hadn't noticed him staring at her for what was probably an impolite amount of time.

"Well at least you only feel like my stars are stalking you for two months of the year," he tried to sound casual but he could tell he wasn't quite succeeding, "That's a better deal than I'm getting."

Rose let out a huff and watched him with a raised eyebrow, awaiting his punchline having become well-versed in his standard insult delivery over the years.

"Oh really?" She questioned, "And how do you figure that?"

Scorpius found himself talking without really thinking, which was obscenely dangerous. When his mind wasn't involved, other parts of his anatomy tended to take over - sometimes it was his dick, which was usually very stupid and short-term-goal orientated. Then there were times when his heart took over. And those times were all together more dangerous.

He was frightfully concerned that this was one of those times.

( _He was right_ )

"I look up there and all I think of is you in this damn tower," Scorpius tried to laugh, but all that he succeeded in doing was constricting his throat, forcing him to swallow heavily before continuing, "You only see me in one constellation. But I see you in the whole sky."

The next sentence is out of his mouth before he can stop it.

"To me, you are the stars."

Every word he said was the truth; he was just only then starting to realise that he's not sure what the meaning of them is. Does he think of her constantly because she's a constant pain in his ass and she's single handedly ruined the goddam cosmos for him? Or…or maybe some other reason?

 _We think of her because she is our other half. We think of her because-_

Scorpius shut it out. He used all of his power and strength to push the bird out of his mind because he couldn't deal with that yet; couldn't deal with what the bird in his brain wanted to say because he was feeling particularly weak and he might just agree with it. And he simply couldn't have that. He wasn't ready for it yet. He wasn't ready to succumb to a biology that he'd never had to acknowledge until the past few weeks. He refused to fall _in L-word_ with someone in a week. That's not what rational adults did. Merlin, Scorpius barely starts to tolerate other humans until he's known them for a month or so and they've proved themselves not entirely idiotic and annoying. He couldn't feel that way for Rose. Not yet. He won't let himself.

As much as he was freaking himself out, it seemed he was doing a pretty decent job of scaring the bejesus out of Rose too. She was just staring at him, clearly trying to figure out which meaning she should tell herself was correct. He very dearly hoped she wouldn't ask him to clarify - he wasn't sure if he could.

"I'm sorry I ruined the stars for you," Rose whispered in a voice so tiny that he definitely wouldn't have heard her if he wasn't lying right next to her.

He took a heavy breath and considered momentarily not saying the next line that was floating around his head. But the evening had been so pleasant, and her eyes were so blue, and he was a weak, foolish man who simply couldn't resist.

"I never said that you ruined them, Rose."

She inhaled sharply, but he was distressed to see a sadness taking over her features. She dropped her eyes and worried her lip between her teeth. His veela worried at the base of his skull, they felt her slipping away from them when they had been getting closer. It let out a pained whine that Scorpius dearly hoped only he could hear. When Rose continued to look down at her hands, he shuffled closer, leaning in to his innate need to try and comfort her.

"Rose," he tested quietly, smiling to lighten his tone, "What's wrong?"

She let out a heavy breath before finally looking up at him from under her long eyelashes. When she eventually spoke, her voice was tiny in the large empty room.

"What are you doing Scorpius?"

He grinned at her to try and lighten the mood again. He didn't seem to be succeeding. "What do you mean?"

"I thought we were trying to be friends?"

"We are."

Rose let out a huff and looked at her hands again,"It doesn't feel like that."

Suddenly, at the mention of feelings, his bird brain became very fucking interested again. Scorpius shifted onto his side, giving Rose his undivided attention. He didn't miss the way she glanced up at his nearness and drew in a shallow breath, looking very much like she'd like to inch away. Fighting every instinct in his body that said otherwise, Scorpius shifted back a little to make her feel more comfortable.

"What does it feel like?" He whispered, his smile gentle.

"It…I…I don't know," she finally relented, her brow furrowed in confusion, "But none of my other friends speak to me like this."

He gave a careless shrug, "Maybe you've just got terrible friends."

That earned him an amused eye-roll. "I have wonderful friends."

"It doesn't sound like it."

"None of my other friends have set my hair on fire."

"I bet none of them have ever broken you out of prison either."

She turned onto her side to face him so she could argue better, "You didn't break me out of _prison_ \- you broke me out of the Hospital Wing."

"Where you were bored to death and wasting away," he sounded haughty and he didn't care because she was smiling, "Where were your so-called 'wonderful' friends then?"

"In bed. Like the sane adults they are."

"How horrendously boring."

"I'd rather have wonderful boring friends than chaotic confusing friends."

"How am I chaotic?"

She choked out a laugh, "You just said you broke me out of prison."

"I think the term you're looking for is _heroic_."

Her expression was deadpan, "I'm very sure it's not."

"It's almost enough to make me an honorary member of your house," Scorpius turned is nose up in an aristocratic gesture he'd seen many of his family members do un-ironically.

"It absolutely isn't."

"I expect to be given the password to the Gryffindor Common Room now that I'm a saviour of the people," he continued as if she hadn't denied him.

"You aren't the saviour of shit."

"Agree to disagree. And how exactly am I confusing?" He added the second question quickly, hoping to continue in the joking manner they'd established. But as soon as he'd asked it, he watched the light fade from her eyes slightly as she grew pensive once more.

"Because," Rose started, taking a deep breath and holding his gaze, "I don't know where I stand with you."

"Well technically we're not standing at all at the moment."

"You know what I mean!"

"I'm afraid that I don't," in a move that he didn't anticipate, filled with a false sense of security and compassion, Scorpius shuffled closer, his voice dropping to be quieter once more, "How am I confusing, Rose?"

There was a silence that wrapped itself around them, a hesitation in the way she searched his eyes for an answer he knew wasn't there. So he lay there silently, not breaking eye contact as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch her as he gave her the time she needed to find her answer.

"Because I keep expecting you to reveal that this has all been a lie," Rose eventually explained, sounding a tad defeated. It made his heart hurt, "There is a part of me that keeps telling me this is just some particularly cruel prank of yours and you're just making me feel this way to confuse me and hurt me."

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to feel betrayed and dismissed. But he knew that wasn't fair. Because if he were in Rose's position - if he didn't know anything about the existence of male veelas let alone the fact that her arch nemesis was one and that she was his mate - he'd probably be thinking the same thing. In fact he'd _definitely_ be thinking the same thing. He'd be doubting the sincerity of his claims, and would be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. He'd be hesitant about offering his trust unwaveringly, knowing that all their lives up until now had been spent at each others' throats. He wouldn't want to trust him, because he'd be terrified of getting hurt.

Scorpius supposed he'd just have to work a little harder.

"What can I do to convince you it's not?" He asked, trying not to notice how nice it felt to be resting so close to her.

She bit her lip and sighed, "I don't know. Maybe it'll just take time."

He resisted the urge to let out a defeated sigh. Time was not something that was particularly on his side in the given circumstances, what with the creature in his head continuing to vie for attention and control. Even so, his veela seemed to acknowledge that they couldn't make too many sudden declarations around Rose. They both wanted her to come to them willingly, not because of some genetic obligation.

"Well, patience is not a virtue I've been bestowed with, Rose," Scorpius gave her a smile in a manner he hoped she took to be reassuring, "But I am willing to make the effort."

She smiled back at him and he knew she understood. She couldn't trust him yet, but she wasn't opposed to the idea. He watched as her eyes took on a different light as they flittered over his features, an odd kind of determination and questioning reflected in them.

"There's something different about you," she eventually said. Which was, you know, the understatement of the century. There was absolutely no good in her knowing that though.

"How so?" He questioned, hoping his tone didn't make him sound guilty.

"I don't know, exactly," her eyes came back to his and he was instantly hypnotised, "But there's just… _something_."

"Well I don't know if you've noticed but I've been using new shampoo and I think my hair is really flourishing and looking _particularly_ stunning recently," he shook his head where it rested on the pillow but she didn't look away from his eyes.

"I'm not talking about that glowing shit -"

Holy Fuck. She could tell he was glowing. SINCE WHEN COULD SHE TELL HE WAS GLOWING

She moved on too quickly for him to get too caught up in it but he definitely tucked that piece of information away in his brain under the heading ' _things to freak the fuck out about at a more convenient time_ ' and let her continue.

"I'm talking about the…the everything else."

He snorted, "Oh yes didn't I mention I've also started using a ' _Change My Everything Else'_ serum. It's working wonders. Nice of your to notice."

"Ok smart ass. I just mean that you just seem," she shrugged and he got the feeling she was trying very hard to seem like she hadn't thought about it a lot when she definitely had, "I don't know. Lighter?"

"Is that your way of calling me exceptionally pale because I swear to Merlin Rose I am trying very hard to-"

"No, I mean," she sighed in frustration again, "You seem… _less burdened?_ I don't know. You always walked around like you hated the world and everyone in it-"

"That's probably because I do."

She gives him _a look_ that indicates she knows he's lying. Fine, so he likes four people.

"But now, every time I've seen you since the forest, you just seem…" her brows furrowed again and she let out a little 'hmph' in defeat when she failed to find the words again, "I don't know. 'Lighter' is the only word that comes to mind."

It absolutely did not escape him that Rose would be the only one that thought this. Everyone else thought he was acting absolutely bonkers. Pomfrey wanted him admitted for every assessment under the sun, Longbottom thought he was a risk to himself, and Phillipa thought he was…actually he didn't know what exactly Phillipa thought but she was acting like he had gone a bit insane too if the questions about bowel movements was anything to go off. Everyone seemed to think Scorpius was behaving peculiarly enough to be a health risk since his veela emerged, and yet Rose thought he was more well than ever. Probably because Rose only ever saw him when he was around her. Which meant that whatever change she saw in him was almost certainly because of her and nothing else.

Scorpius couldn't tell her this now, of course. He'd keep that wholesome little nugget to himself.

Instead he simply smiled and held her gaze and hoped that he looked as honest as he felt.

"Maybe you're just rubbing off on me."

That earned him a smile, "Let's hope so."

They lay there in silence for several moments, Scorpius watching as Rose's eyes searched his face, assessing him for something he wasn't sure of. He let her. He wasn't scared of what she might find. Eventually she looked down at the space of blanket between them, took a steadying breath before she whispered to him.

"I still feel bad I've stolen the stars from you," she confessed. Scorpius took the opportunity to shuffle closer to her again, leaving approximately a foot and a half of space between them. It felt gargantuan and minuscule all at once. She glanced up at him and he was momentarily caught by just how blue her eyes looked, the flecks of light from the candles dancing in them.

Merlin he really wanted to kiss her.

"If my fate is to look up at the stars and think of Rose Weasley, well, I think I can handle that," he smiled and did his absolute best not to look at her mouth, "There are far worse things."

"Like having her spend hours lecturing you about them?" She asked with a self-deprecating smile.

"I'll have you know that I have thoroughly enjoyed my evening."

"Even with my lecture?"

" _Especially_ with your lecture."

Rose smiled at him with something he thought he could identify as genuine affection and it warmed something in his chest. Probably his long dead heart. His veela beamed and he felt it fluttering happily.

 _Pleased mate_

With the helpful little hint from his bird-brain, Scorpius took a calculated risk and spoke again before he could think better of it.

"I'm not sure you've completely swayed my opinion of Astrology though."

"Is that right?"

"I'm afraid so," he picked at a spot on the rug between them that suddenly had his undivided attention because _holy shit he was sweating this was nerve-wracking how the fuck do people who date do this regularly_ , "We'd probably have to do this a few more times for me to really start enjoying it."

There's a question in his tone, the implications clear - _I'd like to do this again._ Terrified and nervous in equal measure, he risked glancing back to Rose who was smiling at him knowingly.

And look at that. She was blushing again. How beautiful.

"Well I owe it to my profession to try to convince you," she shrugged, a teasing tone to her words.

"You do," Scorpius agreed, "Otherwise I'm going to continue to tease you mercilessly about it for the rest of our combined existences, and given that we're friends now I imagine that will get quite tiresome for you."

Her smile shone brighter than any candle light in the room. "For the sake of my sanity, I guess we'll have to do this again."

He was going to fall in love with Rose Weasley. And he was going to love every second of it.

Scorpius was about to start making plans for the next time they did this when a very familiar and incredibly unappreciated sound echoed through the space; footsteps and children's voices. The make-up classes, they must be happening tonight.

Panic crossed both their faces as they came to the same realisation all at once - _the children can't find us like this. We need to leave now_.

Scorpius jumped up and ran to the table, shoving as many scones and biscuits into his pockets as he could. Rose levitated all her random equipment and sent it flying into the back room with a clattering thud. She looked down at the blankets and reached to start picking them up when Scorpius grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the window, summoning his broom as he went.

"There's no time!" He urged in a hurried whisper, "We need to go. Now!"

The Nimbus landed in his hand seamlessly and Scorpius leapt onto the broom with a practiced grace that came from years of Quidditch. Rose wasn't far behind, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling herself flush against his back.

He was never going to get sick of that feeling.

He was so distracted by the warmth of her body pressed against his, that he didn't notice how warm he was feeling until after they'd dove out into the night sky. While he was freezing before when he picked her up, now he felt nothing but a toasty warmth as the wind blew past his ears without making them ring with cold. Scorpius risked a peak over his shoulder to see Rose looking at him a touch guiltily.

"Did you put a warming charm on me?" He asked, unable to decide between being stunned or thankful. It could have been the wind, but Rose looked like she was blushing again.

"I put a warming charm on _us_ ," holy fuck he liked being called an _us_ with Rose, "Your last one was a bit awful. I thought you'd appreciate it."

He patted one of her hands where it was clutching at his stomach, "I do. Thank you."

Scorpius was flying slower than usual, eager to delay their return to the Hospital Wing, especially now that the cold wouldn't bother then ( _she really was better at those charms than he was_ ). He wouldn't force it on her though. She was still in recovery, and just like it wasn't fair for Pomfrey to keep her in, it wasn't fair for him to keep her out if she didn't want to. He would fly her back and drop her off and then he would go to bed and have pleasant dreams imagining her wrapped in him arms. That had been his plan. And it had been a damn good plan. An honourable plan. And it was shot to hell as soon as Rose spoke.

"Do you think we could keep flying a little longer?" she asked, mouth almost pressed against his ear, "I don't feel like going back to jail yet."

He twisted his head to see her better, which had the unforeseen side-effect of basically bringing them nose-to-nose.

Merlin he really could just kiss her now.

"I'd like that," was all he said instead.

Rose smiled at him and moved her head to rest against his shoulder blade once more and Scorpius turned back to face where they were going. He wove in and out of buildings, flew low and steady over the lake, soared high over the forest - although he very deliberately avoided the portion of the forest that had led to her hospitalisation in the first place. And through it all, he felt Rose's arms around him, heard her little laughs as they dipped quick enough to make their stomachs drop, and listened as she gave a little sigh at the peace of it all. Firewhiskey had nothing on what it was to feel intoxicated by the presence of Rose Weasley.

When he helped her climb back in through the window almost an hour later, Scorpius wasn't even sad to be letting her go. The night had been just about as close to perfect as he could have ever hoped, and he feared extending it further would only ruin it.

Once she was safely inside, Rose turned back around to lean out the window to whisper to him.

"Thank you, Scorpius," she said with a heartfelt smile, her hair crazy and windswept and perfect, "Tonight has been…"

Again she searched for words she didn't have, because there weren't really words for it.

"Yeah," he said with a smile, "It has been."

He pulled out the scones he'd managed to smuggle out before their quick escape and handed them over. Her eyes grew wide and her smile bloomed across her face as she reached out to take them off him excitedly.

"Oh Merlin I could kiss you!" She laughed happily. He didn't think she really meant it. That didn't stop his heart from jumping up to his throat though.

"I'd let you," his reply slipped out before he had the chance to think better of it. Rose laughed at him and he told himself that it didn't hurt. Because obviously she thought he'd meant it as a joke. After all, she'd clearly meant it as a joke. Because there was no way - scones or not - that Rose Weasley was going to-

She moved out of the window so quickly he didn't have time to register. The next thing he knew Rose Weasley had pressed her lips to his cheek and then ducked back into the safety of her room, her eyes bright and her cheeks glowing.

"Good night Scorpius," she whispered still smiling a touch nervously as she reached to close the window. Scorpius shook himself out of his stupor to look back at her and offer her what he was fairly sure was the rough approximation of a smile proudly worn by an idiot.

"Good night Rose."

* * *

 _A/N: aaaaaaand done! I hope you all enjoyed it. I know some folks have been requesting a Rose POV chapter and you'll be getting that up next hopefully. I just gotta make sure that doesn't grow into a beast like this chapter did._

 _For those of you who have been asking after my health - thank you so much you beautiful creatures. Myself and my loved ones are safe, or as safe as anyone is in these times. I hope you are all staying safe and staying sane, and are finding things to smile about out there in the world. Because they are there, we just have to look a little harder for them these days._

 _Shine on you crazy diamonds_

 _Grae xx_


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